Update, Update
So, how are you? personally, I’ve felt, walked, ran, and eaten better.
The last few months have been a blur. Mostly I’ve been sleeping, eating and working. Actually, I’ve been mostly working. I remember being in Jayne’s car, and saying how I would get a job at Prestwich Hospital. I would become a nurse, and that would generally be it. I think part of me was affected by Helen, and wanted to help other sick people. Part of me thought I could really do this and be happy. Watching Claire get her registration and be successful, along with praise from Sharon did create a spark inside. However this wasn’t a creative spark. It was a,
find
a
career
before
you
lose
him.
And so I got the job, and now have an itch. A six month itch I seem to get with every job I’ve had, bar my first. I think also growing a year older has made me realise, that whilst I need to chose something and start to build a career/life, I also need to be careful not to get stuck in something that could ultimately make me very unhappy. Canada too played a part in my decision. Nurse’s are high up on their wanted lists and getting a visa with that profession is very, Very easy to do. However as the months have rolled by, the immigration process has become more lax, to the point where semi-skilled people are now being excepted quicker, and in their droves.
Win. win.
With all this in mind I have been soul searching for the past 12weeks at least. There are so many choices that are slowly turning into dust as my youth fades away. Whilst I am much more tolerant of people than ever before, I simply don’t have to compassion to care for others full time. At least not those that constantly abuse the people who care for them. I find myself questioning my own sanity and that is not a great place or thing to do. I take solace in nothing. I suffer from extreme lows and highs. I’ve had 3 nurses say I am classic bipolar. Which is not the worse infliction one can have, if anything a diagnoses of such a kind would explain why so many people think I’m weird. I don’t understand why I’m different, this has been pointed out to me since I was small, and continues to be addressed.
Work is all that is on my mind, or rather a type of work. I love animals, but to care for them and be happy, I would have to be a vet. Whislt I do not doubt my dedication to the subject, and feel with the right education I could actually become a vet surgeon, there just isn’t the time. It would take me eight years. Eight years, I don’t have in either one of my pockets.
Then there is the art route. I am trained in the arts, adore the arts, eat, sleep and dream of different concepts, ideas and orders. No more jack of all trades, I would need to specialise. Musical theatre is the hand that grabs. I can sing, and sing whenever possible. I believe at some point I must have been a songbird. Singing in a musical, a world of imagination, far from the dismal day to day of this life. Yeah, I could live with that. Rehearsals, dancing, acting, a livable wage and chance to mix with a variety of people from difference genre’s and places. What could be better?
I really don’t know.