How Did I Become a Writer?
Reflective satire about my writing journey: From Nursing to Writing
Last night before I drifted to sleep, I asked myself: ‘Why do I write? I started to brainstorm.
Is it my lost dream from childhood?
My calling?
My passion?
I don’t know yet. I have been writing for too short a time to know if it is my passion or not. Actually, I disliked writing during my college years.
Do I write because I am bored? No…I don’t think anyone can write out of boredom. It would be too laborious as my friends always point out. They ask, what do you have to write so much about? I answer them: “Stories, thoughts, opinions.” But they don’t get it. How can I write every day?
Of course, I write because I have stories in my head but there must be something more than just stories.
In my past life, I mean a few years ago, I was a nurse. I worked with babies and sick children, but I got burnt out. Especially working night shifts. So, I became a cubicle HMO nurse. I only have 2 words for that: boring and painful.
Even worse.
My possible destiny after death could be similar to this joke:
Three nurses died and went to heaven, where they were met by St. Peter.
To the first, he asked, “What did you do on Earth and why should you go to heaven?” “I was a nurse in an inner-city hospital,” she replied. “Very noble,” said St. Peter. “You may enter.”
To the next, he asked the same question: “So what did you do on Earth?” “I was a nurse at a missionary hospital in Africa,” “How touching,” said St. Peter. “You too may enter.” And in she went.
He then came to the last nurse, to whom he asked, “So, what did you do back on Earth?” After some hesitation, she explained, “I was just a nurse at an HMO.” St. Peter pondered this for a moment, and then said, “Okay, you may enter also.“Whew!” said the nurse.
“For a moment there, I thought you weren’t going to let me in.” “Oh, you can come in,” said St. Peter, “but you can only stay for three days!”
By nature, I am very creative. Yet, when you are a nurse very little creativity is allowed. I tried to trust myself. Once, I made pacifier binkies for babies, but they weren’t allowed in the hospital. Then I remember overriding the doctor’s order for saline in order not to let one mom bleed to death after giving birth but that wasn’t allowed either.
You see that is why nursing is strictly professional. You follow doctors’ orders…no creativity…or thinking, outside of the box.
Reasons why I quit nursing:
1. I couldn’t deal with the night shifts
2. The tiny amount of creativity allowed
3. I couldn’t stand the cubicle light and that you need to sit for 8 hours and pretend you are working. Also, sitting on my ass gave me constipation.
So I became a writer to have a better chance after death
A writer died and was given the option of going to heaven or hell.
She decided to check out each place first. As the writer descended into the fire, she saw row upon row of writers chained to their desks in a steaming sweatshop. As they worked, they were repeatedly whipped with thorny lashes.
“Oh my,” said the writer. “Let me see heaven now.”
A few moments later, as she ascended into heaven, she saw rows of writers, chained to their desks in a steaming sweatshop. As they worked, they, too, were whipped with thorny lashes.
“Wait a minute,” said the writer. “This is just as bad as hell!”
“Oh no, it’s not,” replied an unseen voice. “Here, your work gets published.”
How I Became a Writer
I decided this year to let my creative side shine and I became a writer. Let me tell you, I have been writing now for 3 months and I have already had serious side effects from writing. It is not the writer’s block. I thought being a writer would be the opposite of nursing. I had this romantic idea about writing.
“THE VOICE OF WRITING SEEMS TO CALL ME, BUT AT THE WRONG TIME.”
1. Now, I suffer from insomnia because I have too many ideas flying out of my head but at the wrong time of the day. I get my most creative ideas when I am in an alpha state. The alpha state is just before you fall asleep. Alpha waves boost creativity and they sure do boost mine. I write down my thoughts in my notebook. But after this writing activity, I can’t fall asleep and in the morning, I look like a raccoon. It is almost 4 AM and I am still up writing this.
2. Writing is becoming my all-day life and not anymore from 9 to 5. It is all the time because I get ideas, not only at night but randomly. I was not a nurse on call but I feel like a writer on-call 24/7. I have to carry my pen and notebook, everywhere. Even now during this pandemic lockdown. I carry it from room to room to the bathroom. You never know when it might hit. It might be in the middle of a ….
3. Oh, and constipation…who knew as a writer you need to sit again for many hours. But I learned tricks and I can lie down on my tummy and type.
I call all this a karma.
My husband hates me that I write. He still has this image of me being a professional nurse. You know why? Because for one nursing shift, I got paid $300 and now as a writer, I get paid 4 cents daily ( more or less). So, he calls me “an amateur” and my writing too. But you know what? I don’t care.
I enjoy the writing journey, with disturbed alpha waves and my morning’s raccoon eyes. I feel very satisfied because I am creating just as Sergey Faldin writes in his stories.
You may write first million words BS words but after that magic happens.
Let the magic out.
