I was talking to my new boss the other day about the jobs I've had in the past few years and as I was reeling off my list I became aware of how many different directions I have pointed myself. All I have learned from these experiences is what I don't like.
Firstly I don't like working in an office. The cubicles, the gray walls, the blank faces, trying to spread 15 minutes of work over and 8 hour day...all it did was depress me.
I wish I could be like my friends who have found freedom and happiness working in retail. It's great because You get to walk around, interact with different people every day, and have a flexible schedule. I only wish I were gifted with the patience and friendly attitude that my friends possess. I'm not cheery enough to work in retail full time. I can't abide rudeness (something that is unfortunately ever present), I have a temper (well, I'm a redhead, what did you expect?) I have to talk in a faux American accent 'cos people can't understand what I'm saying and by the end of an 8 hour shift my feet feel like they're going to fall off!
So, we've ruled out office work and retail/service industry (have never tried working in a restaurant for two reasons.1. The idea of cleaning up spit up food off someone else's plate turns my stomach. 2. the temptation to pour scolding hot food on a rude customer would be too much for me to overcome).
I also couldn't work outside. manual labor would be a great diet and exercise regime, but I couldn't put up with being in the sun all day. My skin rivals the translucence of Edward Cullen's and I'd rather be pale and pasty than look like I was made of leather.
I've said many times that I'd like to be one of those people who takes off on great adventures. I want to work for National Geographic and travel the world writing about strange and exotic places. The one problem with this is that while I have the impulses of an adventurer, I also have a slightly OCD need to plan everything ahead of time. So while adventurer X would be parachuting into the jungles of Congo, I'd be at the doctors office getting malaria shots and packing enough sunscreen to cover all of Australia. Also I doubt my intimate knowledge of Perez Hilton's website would impress the people at National Geographic. I'd be writing about the fashion of some far away tribe instead of the more pressing issues like famine or war.
The ironic thing is that when going through this list I realize that I've opted myself out of all my chosen professions. If I want to work in publishing I'd have to be in an office. If I want to work at a magazine I'd have to work in an office and the most ridiculous thing is that my dream of sitting on a tropical beach writing an award winning novel would be hampered by my hatred of sand, sun and myself in a bathing suit!
So where does that leave me? Looks like I'll be living in the countryside somewhere cold and dark, writing by candlelight about the adventurer I'll never be able to become. Unless I marry rich, In which case I'll hire an umbrella holder and sunscreen applicant while I'm on the beach who will also follow me through the jungle and protect me from any nasty bugs.
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