I haven't asked for anything, no special requests this year. Probably because I spent so much time this past semester hoping and praying and wanting everything to turn out very well with classes and grades... especially Microbiology. I just wanted to do well in school, despite the misgivings that continue to pop up...
Am I really going in the direction that I want to pursue?
Is medicine really right for me?
Will I be happy and successful as a nurse?
My father's voice always erupts from the back of my mind... have something to fall back on.
The truth is, I would really be happiest if I were able to sustain myself as a writer, publishing short stories and articles and working on a book, the book, some books, compiling all the stories I've got wrapped around inside my head on paper and sending them out for publication and reading by the general public.
So far, I've read three books since the holiday began, spent as much time as possible reading and writing and thinking and resting and planning and wondering how difficult the next two years will be while I finish school then find a job practicing what I've learned in a position that allows enough free time to do what I really love.
Every time I find myself in the wonderful world I love, the world of fiction, my wants and desires return and I remember how much I love the craft, how much I would give to be able to do only this: read, write, create, live happily in the universes I fathom. My creative juices are flowing once again, I forget how furtively they can erupt.
My only Christmas wish is to have my happiness endure, and to see happiness endure in the lives of those in my non-fiction world.
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