I have been reading This I Believe, which is a book that my AP English teacher made us read. I am blown away at the thoughts in that book, that I'm starting to think that I am bound to be an intelligent being at some point in my life. And I think that some point is now. I am tapping into different parts of life that I've never had to think about, needless to say that I'm finally feeling mature.
Today I had a special realization into my own personal lifestyle that I had planned out as my life career. I wanted to be a nurse, because that seems to be the only option. Why is that my only option? Well, I hate school and it only takes four years to become a nurse and the pay is more than decent. I'm not doing it because I'm passionate about it and I'm not even excited about the idea of having to cure people. Excuse me for sounding so careless, but I can't sit there and sew on somebodys toe. IT'S NOT GONNA HAPPEN!
I came to this realization through experience. Today, my mom didn't feel good. She had chills, body ache, head ache, and the pain was so severe that she couldn't even eat, so I called my dad and he told me to take her to the ER.
I sat down in the waiting room for a nurse to call my moms name. I looked around and I found that for a Sunday, there were a lot of people there. How many things can go wrong on a the day of rest? Everyone was talking joyously as if they weren't sitting in an emergency room. I felt alone as if I was the only one thinking about the people that probably sat in my seat crying because they witnessed a death of some sort. I felt cold and sterile and chained. How could these people be smiling when so many people had died? This room was filled with children fighting, babies crying, and people talking, but my mind was silent. Then they put me and my mom in a hallway. There were patient beds all over the place. People hooked up to machines while they were being carried off into Ambulances. Patients with heavy bags under their wrinkled eyes.
I know for sure that I will never get used to seeing grey haired women with bruises all over the body, a teenager with blood running down her leg, caused by a deep cut on her knee. Maybe I can get used to it, but I don't see why I would like to come to work and find it normal for something to be fatally wrong with every patient. I can't DO THIS for a living. I rather be a struggling actor living under trees in Central Park. And now I am forced back to question, "What must I do to make a living?" Everything I want to do is a bit difficult to achieve. I don't want to hear, "Oh, you really think you can do that? That's a million and one chance." I've got a calling for something way different. I've accepted the fact that I want to fall in LOVE! FALL IN LOVE WITH WHAT I DO! I don't want a desk job that bores me to death and I hate waking up to each morning.
Falling in love is what's going to lead to my happiness, and that has led me to go to college for something that is somewhat pleasant. Because while I'm doing that job, I will be doing what I want to do, which laugh at it or don't but it's modeling and acting and maybe even singing. I want to write stories, lyrics, and poetry. I want to take pictures for a living. Those are the things that I want to do for a living and those are the things that are the least likely. But if I want it, I can make it happen. Nothing is certain, but I know that Nursing is not my desire, my wish, or passion.
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