I am an electrical engineer for the utility. I have the best job in the world in a field I love and respect, and on a career path that I control for the most part. My job—let’s call it “she”—provides me with much of what I need. She makes sure I have a home, food, warmth, clothes, a couple of vehicles, and the means to take care of them. She provides me with a doctor and medicine when I need it. She is securing my future in the form of a retirement. Yes, she provides many of the items I need to live a comfortable life.
She has demands, however, and I am obliged. I must spend a certain amount of time with her. She needs and deserves my attention on a regular predictable basis, and I am happy to provide it. We work on our relationship everyday, some days more than others. As I treat her right, she treats me right. In many ways, my job—my career—is like a wife.
Jazz, on the other hand, is my girlfriend. I play the sax, which sounds a lot like “sex.” Is that a coincidence? She will do things that my wife would never do, in places she would never go, at a time of day she would rather sleep. My girlfriend is there when I want her, and most importantly, she is not there when I don’t. I have her on my terms. She is most definitely the other woman. She is second, but man, she is good.
My wife is routine, but caring and solid; my girlfriend is lusty and exciting, but flaky. My wife provides me with a steady income. My girlfriend consumes money—I pay her to play. I can count on my wife. My girlfriend is unreliable. My girlfriend loves my mouth, especially my tongue; my wife doesn’t need it so much. I create wonderful designs with my wife, but I have to follow lots of rules. It requires much time and attention, but the masterpieces are amazing. I create with my girlfriend too, but the wishy-washy rules and poor discipline sometimes make noise instead of music. I would spend more time with her, but I have obligations.
My wife and my girlfriend. Between the two of them, I live a rich, rewarding, and busy life.
