When I grow up, I want to be a...

I grew up the daughter of a farmer and a nurse, and knew I never wanted to be either.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed helping dad feed the calves their bottles, haying in the summer and tagging along. I've milked cows, riden cows, and been attacked by a cow. Textbook cowgirl, right here. But then I hit my teenage years and saw that it was really dirty and very hard work! Not to mention this was when all the small farms were going under, dairy prices were dismal, etc. Things you wouldn't know if you didn't hear if a dinner every night. And, while I have so much respect for my mother and the good nurses she works with, it involved touching strangers. Not something I would ever be comfortable with.

I wanted to be a veterinarian. Until I had a paper due in 6th grade, where I had to go watch a veterinarian work. Of course being the farm girl I was, I didn't get to watch kittens and puppies getting their shots. My father took me to watch a cow give birth when the vet had to come assist on the farm. It was horrifying, and while birth is beautiful, a cow giving birth is a tad much for a 12 year old girl. And, if I can be frank, there as a lot of birth involved. Anyway...

Then I wanted to be an architect. This lasted the length of a 7th grade presentation. After I got all my photos of cool, modern buildings put on my PowerPoint slides, I found out that math, geometry and the like were more than a little important.

At the ages of 12 and 13, my hopes and dreams were dashed. I was obviously never going to be employed. Life was hard, everyone wanted me to choose a profession, and every year they wanted a new report. I mean, I was 13, and was way more interested in that cute boy in my class.

2009, 2010, 2011
Not the best years for me, in the context of employment. I worked as a short-order cook (spawning my fear of poor knife-handling), became a telemarketer (and was horrible at it), moved to NYC and took a job in a billing department which my most stressful position ever. I then worked in a pizzeria 60 hours a week and got my real estate salesperson license. I loved that actually, except that not renting any apartments solidified the honest truth that I am not a salesperson.

Flash forward to 2014. 
I'm in my third year working at a desk job, helping people navigate transit and commuting in NYC. Not glamorous or lucrative. But, we get free health and dental care, I work from home part of the day, and we do have great office parties. Really, everyone should work in a small office for this reason. And, oddly, this further reminds me that I work in the NYC version of The Office.

But... what do I want to do?

I would love to be a stay-at-home mom, homeschooling and living out in the country somewhere with a cow, dozen chickens and a small business. But if I'm a childless wife, living in NYC at this office job for a long time, that's okay too. 

I just want to be happy. And so far, so good. I've learned that you shouldn't base your identity on your job.

So tell me...

What did you always want to be?

Was your path to your current job winding, or pretty straightforward?

What do you (still) want to be when you grow up?

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It's about that time again! Six months ago I wrote from A-Z, a different letter every day in April (except Sundays). This time around I'm going to write a post every day in October, hence Blogtober. Clever, huh?

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