The Moment This Nurse Went From $12.25 an Hour to $562 Was Because of Enchiladas

The other day on Twitter, there was this fella who sent me a Tweeted message.

It basically alluded to the fact that he was digging how I went from a $12-hour nurse to a $562-hour freelancer. No, that's not a typo. I really was pulling in that much per hour.

But that's for another story.

He point-blank Tweeted to me asking how the heck it all started. Like what was the catalyst? And what were the first moments like, and what did I do about them? He was curious about that inflection point or that moment in time where we either pull the trigger or holster that bad boy.

It really made me think about it. And then, of course, if I should actually write up that "trigger moment." But then I realized I had already written a book about it. Like a legit book that is for sale on my website (shameless plug: www.TheRickMartinez.com)

So at that moment, I had to decide.

Be one of "those guys" and send him a link to my book?

Or…

Do what I love and just write about it.

Well, I'm not "one of those guys."

 I'm writing to you from the past now 

It's not that I hated my job; it's that it had become a J-O-B

This career is my calling.

At least that was the line I said to myself over and over again.

So there I was, another 12 hour night shift with no damn bathroom breaks, and the ER was busy. Besides the lack of potty breaks, there was, of course, the whole not getting to eat thing. I remember that night because the unit clerk brought in homemade enchiladas. By the time me and some of the nurses had a moment to sneak back and scarf a bite…they were all fuggin gone.

I ended up eating the smooshed-up energy bar still in my back pocket.

Do any other professions go through this?

Sure, when they brought me on as a contractor, the fancy brochures mentioned scheduled breaks, only three 12-hour shifts each week, with every other weekend a 3-day one. The bullet points were always so alluring. Add to it the extra dough that the agency was throwing at me, and to be honest, I didn't have a lot to complain about.

Plus, I'm not a complainer by nature.

I'm a get stuff done, make it happen kinda nurse.

My starting wage as an RN with a Bachelor of Science in Nursing was $12.25 per hour, and now I was pulling in just over $20 bones an hour as an agency nurse. More money, but same "stuff." The fact is, one of my goals in becoming a "freelancer," aka: agency nurse, was to increase my hourly rate.

Mission accomplished.

The problem was and is, even to this day, is that I was still capped by the whole trading dollars for hours conundrum, and there was a definite ceiling on that. What that "dollars for hours" really meant was that no matter how many shifts I chose to work, I could only do 12 hours at a time, 7 days a week. And the dollars part? Yep. It was capped by what they were gonna pay me.

One thing I realized as I began to mull over my choice of J-O-B's was this.

That every ceiling…and I mean EVERY ceiling…is made of glass.

And I was determined as heck to smash right through it come hell or high water. I wanted the whole damn enchilada.

 I'm back in 2021 now 

You see, the thing about the Tweet, and often what we come to expect, is that there's a lightning bolt moment.

Many people have a grand illusion that a successful freelancer, entrepreneur, or founder is overcome by a moment of brilliance. And further, that their moments of brilliance are because they got lucky. And further yet again, that those moments of brilliance and luck never happen to just a plain ole' nurse.

But they do.

You just need to listen with your eyes, your heart, and your gut.

My moment was about Mexican food. Enchiladas. And just being sick and tired of never getting to eat.

Most "average" folks will complain about not getting a lunch break and then be happier than a pig in shit when they get one. Others will sneak back and stuff some enchiladas in their Tupperware for later. And some will simply Tweet about what a lousy profession they chose because they don't get lunch breaks but still show up for the next 20-years until they make barely enough to retire.

My moment was when I decided to build my own damn table.

The final word

I was stuck in the dollars for hours, no lunch trap.

Maybe you are as well.

I set a tiny goal to simply find a way to make more money, and I did. I realized early on that complaining does nothing for you except let others know you're a complainer. 

So set small goals at first, fortify your mindset to believe that anything is possible, and prepare to smash glass ceilings.

Then don't look back.

***

Oh, and that book? It's here…right here.