How did I get here?

So my job is not your every day job. I don't work at an office, sitting for eight hours a day, answering phone calls and working on a computer. I don't work at a store, talking to customers and helping them spend their money. I don't do physical labor of any kind. I don't answer telephones. I don't paint, draw, sing, or compose. I don't even go to school.
I didn't plan on working in this field. I didn't go to school for twelve years, earn my diploma, and go to a semester of college to do what I do. I didn't grow up wanting what I now have. This may sound like a bad thing. Most people plan on working where they work. Most people get their diploma and go to college to earn some sort of degree so they can work in their preferred area of work. Most people do grow up wanting a specific job and then either work towards it, or change their mind and work towards a different career.
I sort of fell into my job. Kind of an accident. Definitely not on purpose.
Let's rewind to the beginning on 2008. I was nineteen and living in a two bedroom apartment with two other girls. I had just signed up for three classes at the college down the street and planned on attending them every day and finishing them, which I didn't do the semester before. I didn't have a job. But thanks to financial aid, I had money. And I didn't feel the need to get a job. I had my classes and my friends. I felt full. Until I stopped attending classes. Don't even think about asking me why I didn't see them through. I can't tell you the answer now, and I probably wouldn't have been able to tell you the answer then. Whatever the reason, I stopped. And suddenly, I wasn't full anymore. All of my friends where either working and/or attending classes while I sat at home. I felt lazy. Useless. So I started job searching.
I don't remember why I even looked at the job post. It was not something I was remotely interested in. But I applied and two days later, I got a phone call and set up an interview. I didn't really know what the job entailed. I didn't even remember applying for anything health care related. But apparently I had. And they paid well. So I went to the interview.
I remember the office. I walked in and it was very nice and polished looking. Clean. Spiffy. There was a drinking fountain and some huge plant that actually looked real. There was a desk in front of me and two hallways to the left and right. Behind the desk were a few doors and a young lady who smiled at me. I was all dressed up and a little nervous. She handed me a handful of papers, a clipboard, and a pen. I sat down and started filling out the papers. Basic questions such as: name, address, phone number. And then previous jobs. And then education. And then experience. Experience in what? I skipped that question and read ahead into what the job was. After I finished reading, I put "none" in the experience section.
I gave the young lady, who was smiling at me again, the papers, clipboard, and pen back. She told me it would be about ten minutes while "someone" looked over my papers. Who is this infamous "someone?" They always say that when you go in for an interview. "Someone" will take a look and if you qualify . . . We all know that the "someone" is the hiring person. So why can't they say "our hiring manager" instead of "someone?"
As I waited, I watched the people in the office. I'm a people watcher and I notice the smallest details when I people watch. Like what color her eye makeup is and the fact that it does not compliment her eyes. Like his beard needs to be trimmed and has quite a few gray hairs sticking out, but the hair on his head is jet black. I watched various men and women walk through the two hallways to the desk to either hand over papers or to pick papers up, and then walk back the way they came. If any of them looked at me, they smiled. Why do people smile at someone sitting in their office? Because they know that she is there for an interview and they want to reassure her. And what is more reassuring than a smile? Yeah right.
To be continued . . .