When I Grow Up
I'm turning 30 this year and I still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. Remember those quizzes in school that were supposed to determine your strengths and weaknesses and what kind of job you would be suited for? Yeah, I always lied on them in order to get the job that I wanted at that time. (I still lie on personality tests.) So I never really found out what kind of career I would be good at. But here is a list of jobs I've considered...
English teacher, English professor, librarian, veterinarian, zoologist, conversation offer, photographer, actor, author, technical writer, copywriter, singer, songwriter, musician, producer, professional hockey player (but only during the Olympics and I'm pretty sure those girls also have day jobs), sports reporter, journalist, justice of the peace (although I guess technically I was one), paralegal, secretary.
So where does this leave me? Will I be destined to never have what most people consider, a career? Is that really so bad? I'm starting to make peace with it. I once joked that my degree (BA in English) is the most expensive poster on my wall. Sure, it didn't ensure me a job/career but it wasn't a waste. It opened my mind. To other people, to other experiences, to other thought processes. And that is never a bad thing. It taught me to read critically and not to take things at face value. (Although my father could've taught me that!) It taught me that I am not the smartest person in the room and maybe I should shut up and listen to what someone else thinks. It taught me that I am more of a realist than I ever thought. And you can drive yourself insane looking for every little hidden allusion in a well written novel. I learned I will never understand Kim. And that's okay. It taught me that the movie version is not the same as the novel (I'm looking at you Rob Roy). And I may never be a great writer (thanks jerk prof), but I am able to string a couple thoughts together and convey a couple emotions. And all I ever wanted out of my life was to do what makes me happy. And if that means working at a "job" and going home to my family, than that's fine with me.
Speaking of becoming a photographer, here's a few pictures...
English teacher, English professor, librarian, veterinarian, zoologist, conversation offer, photographer, actor, author, technical writer, copywriter, singer, songwriter, musician, producer, professional hockey player (but only during the Olympics and I'm pretty sure those girls also have day jobs), sports reporter, journalist, justice of the peace (although I guess technically I was one), paralegal, secretary.
So where does this leave me? Will I be destined to never have what most people consider, a career? Is that really so bad? I'm starting to make peace with it. I once joked that my degree (BA in English) is the most expensive poster on my wall. Sure, it didn't ensure me a job/career but it wasn't a waste. It opened my mind. To other people, to other experiences, to other thought processes. And that is never a bad thing. It taught me to read critically and not to take things at face value. (Although my father could've taught me that!) It taught me that I am not the smartest person in the room and maybe I should shut up and listen to what someone else thinks. It taught me that I am more of a realist than I ever thought. And you can drive yourself insane looking for every little hidden allusion in a well written novel. I learned I will never understand Kim. And that's okay. It taught me that the movie version is not the same as the novel (I'm looking at you Rob Roy). And I may never be a great writer (thanks jerk prof), but I am able to string a couple thoughts together and convey a couple emotions. And all I ever wanted out of my life was to do what makes me happy. And if that means working at a "job" and going home to my family, than that's fine with me.
Speaking of becoming a photographer, here's a few pictures...
Comments