To be or not to be: That IS the question

I'm trying to churn out these two book ideas I have been twiddling my thumbs about. They keep playing off in my head but as soon as I click a new sheet in Microsoft Word document I seem to always get the blank brain. Where have my creativity gone lately? And how do I Wilnesshia Samuel, get it back???!!! Just recently I posted a comment on a group discussion on  LinkedIn, the author of the blog post was talking about how she(or he) was having a writers block. I had to agree, I too was in a major funk. I honestly cannot remember the last time I wrote a story.

I am scared to say I have fallen off the writers wagon. Oh, not completely. I'm still holding on for dear life but barely. As a child I could write so much stories, pages and pages in one setting. Now I'm... stuck. Where did the words go? Did they just walk off my pages without the decency of a goodbye? Did life stripe all of my stories of my inner world? I know I should have the good grace to say, "Hey, at least I've excelled in my standard essay/research writing. A strength I've always had but never cared to garner, until I started attending good ole' college.

Maybe my problem is that I'm always worrying about what I want to be when I grow up that I have stuck my head in the proviable sand. Maybe I am so scared to declare to the world that I would like to be an author/poet and die poor and rich in heart than to become a nurse or something else medically in the healthcare underworld. I mean imagine this, I walk up to my mom while she's cooking.

Me: "Hey, mom! What are you cooking?"
Mom: "It's pasta..."
Me: "Mom I smell meat, to be specific like goat."
Mom: "Okay, your right."
Me:  "Well, what else?"
Mom: "You'll just have to wait until the foods finish cooking."
Me: "Moooom."
Mom: "Have you finally decided a major you want to pursue?"
Me: "Well, you know I'm still declared under nursing, you know I've thought about social work while I was on that internship. And I did had that time were I was thinking about walking dogs. Okay I've found the major for me... writing, literature. The whole shabang."
Mom: -_- "What?"
Me: "I want to become a writer and a poet."
Mom "What? How do you go from nurse to dog walker to poet? Are you crazy?"
Me: ;(
Mom: "There's no money in being an author. You need more than a job you need a career. A writer would need to live from pay check to pay check. I don't want that for you. I don't want you to struggle."
Me: "I'll see you when dinners ready." Walks out while my over protective mom's still talking.

I'm sure every head strong-well meaning parent want for their college student to choose a career that has many prospective in the real world. Authors and poets aren't on many their bucket list. It's all about the doctors, nurses and lawyers, oh have it's always been. And if you're in the STEM careers, you are golden to a parent. They know you'll be making a lot of money and hopefully will have enough finance to be taking care of them in old age (wishful thinking on my mom and dad's part).

 “I think that it’s possible to be naively overoptimistic, and if you reach out to people who have absolutely no intention of reaching back to you, then you may be disillusioned.” _Anonymous

“Some days I'm Superman.  Some days I can't find a spoon to eat my cornflakes.” _Anonymous

“I think that each person must set his or her own definition of "big". Fame? Fortune? Being your own boss? Don't let others push you or stop you. Have a vision and work toward realizing it…” _Anonymous