Last week, a fellow blogger (and someone with whom I've unknowingly crossed paths before), wrote about passion. I spared whatever brains cells weren't used in mollifying my 2-yr-old drama queen to think about what my passion is. I've wanted to "be" a lot of different things throughout my life. When I was 12, I wanted to be a biochemist (remember, Lesley?) When I was 16, I wanted to be a translator for the UN. At 21, I wanted to be a theatre director.
I continue to come back to law, which I know I'd be really good at, would have the stamina for, etc. I just....don't want to be a lawyer. I want to do what lawyers do, I guess, only not. I want to teach. I'd love to teach college, but I refuse to deal with all the tenure stuff. I want to teach high school, but I really want to teach honors classes, and isn't that selfish of me?
I finally had an epiphany. I decided that what I wanted to do for a living was read. I want to read books so that I can recommend them to people. A book personal shopper, if you will. A one person booklamp. I spent a delightful few hours reveling in this realization, which has taken me thirty-one and a half years to make.
(Then I started thinking that it sounds suspiciously like I want to be an agent. But I have no idea how to become an agent. I'm probably too old. And I definitely live in the wrong part of the world. There's all of one publishing house in Denver.)
What do you want to be when you grow up??