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Maybe it’s a consequence of reading/watching too much sci fi, but I often think about what I would look like right now in an alternate universe. (Snickering is allowed here). It’s possible I wouldn’t have ever decided on nursing. I might be doing technical writing right now, or I might be in academia, writing some snooty thesis on Hamlet’s myopia as displayed by his last encounter with Ophelia. (That was actually a consideration of mine).

The more I blog, though, the happier I am that my writing isn’t for a magazine or a professor. Often, but not all the time, I think the purity of writing can be soiled by that. I want to be able to own my voice. It’s not perfect at all, but it’s mine to experiment with and play around with.

On the other hand, I think the important things always come back around. No matter where you travel or how far away you run, what you’re supposed to be doing will catch up with you. Sarah Dessen said this in The Truth About Forever, and I think a part of it rings true:

But if something was really important, fate made sure it somehow came back to you and gave you another chance… Events conspired to bring you back to where you’d been. It was what you did then that made all the difference: it was all about potential.