Look, these “chapters” are very short and very slow, I know. It is what it is.
In addition to being a poor speller, I had (and still have) horrible handwriting. But that is not why I wanted to become a doctor – I fell in love with the clean, disinfected smell of hospitals. To my horror, that had nothing to do with “being a doctor”. I was (and still am) way too squeamish to function in any medical (or plumbing) field.
(To silence my screaming inner child I completed a PhD and got the title without the gore – such a fake, ugh.)
I have always been drawn to art and creativity. Reading, singing, stuff like that. Making things. At school, someone gave me the lead in a musical and hypnotised by the “limelight”, I reckoned that I stumbled upon my destiny.
And then I bloomed (literally) very late as a “teenager” at varsity. Enrolled to study drama. At that point, I wasn’t thinking at all. I was eating, drinking, and perming my hair…a lot! (Were you even alive in the 90s without a perm?)
Looking back, that was one of the pivotal times in my life when good communication failed me. Nobody told me that I was messing up. Not. One. Single. Person. And even if they did, I did not hear them – still failed communication. Anyway, I did have some success as a drama student. Once they cast me a Mother Zebra 🙂
Having absolutely no idea what it entailed, I changed my major to communication in my second year, and then…
