Some people prepare for an intense semester by reading ahead, or making flashcards. I prepare by systematically baking, labeling, and freezing casseroles. I may not have already read 3/4 of my textbooks by mid-October, but at least I will be able to eat a square meal with little to no effort or expense.
I’m not the swiftest decision-maker. Ordinarily I’m the kind of woman who takes about two months to make a decision over a pair of shoes and a half an hour over what to order at a restaurant. Last August, though—thirteen months ago—I spent a week shadowing a nurse practitioner and suddenly realized that this was exactly what I wanted to do with my life. Overnight. I didn’t even say, “let’s sleep on this for a month or so.” I signed up for my prerequisites and began attending classes at community college a week later. I was so utterly confident and unhesitant about it that I almost didn’t recognize myself.
Tonight I am headed to a release party for the September issue of Urbanite, a monthly Baltimore magazine “dedicated to addressing the issues affecting the relationship between the city and those who live there.” I have a short piece in the magazine about that very week, thirteen months ago, the week that made me want to become a nurse. There’s a great symmetry in having this piece published just as I’m starting school.
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