One Writer's Dilemma: I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up...

I can't believe, in just a few short weeks, I will have been alive on this earth for 31 years.

When I think about how I felt when I turned 30, now, there's no looking back, I've peaked the crest and I hope it isn't all down hill from here. 

It's already bad, people call me things like Mrs and lady... 
and I never get carded at the liquor store anymore.
Well, maybe that's because I'm there all the time...

Still, when it comes to my life goals, I think I've met most of them. 
Even if a few have changed over the years.

Last year I told myself, I needed to move on, either back to school for another degree or something else.  I wasn't quite sure.

I was bored, antsy, devouring books at an unhealthy pace (just ask my bank account)

I think that was when I really decided I was going to get back into writing. I had discovered I've been truly happy when I've been writing. 

Before, it was writing journal articles, running experiments in the lab, I loved it, bringing home my data and writing into the night. It was technical writing, editing, working with some of the biggest names in the scientific community.
I. Felt. Awesome.
Like this, or better:

Until the day I learned my job funding was being cut.

Then I had to move on, I had a toddler, a husband, a mortgage and a mountain of student loans.

So, against everyone's suggestions of pursuing my master's or PhD, 
I instead got my nursing degree.

Now, I feel like I have the best of both worlds, 
I get to save lives and write science enriched fiction. 

I've decided I can't choose one or the other, it has to be both.

*Notice both include drinking!

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I've realized I don't need money to make myself happy.

I may not be rich and I may be borderline broke but

I have my family

I have a job

I have writing

Still, I sometimes wonder: