When I grow up

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/08/05/daily-prompt-dreams/

When I was ten years old, I wanted to be a nurse.   All the girls I knew said they wanted to be a teacher or a nurse.  I was unimaginative at that age.

When I was fifteen years old, I asked my mom to buy me a guitar.  I learned to play it well but thought about having a career in the music business behind the scenes.

When I was sixteen years old, I still played my guitar but became interested in drawing and painting and decided I wanted to be an artist.

When I was seventeen years old, I began college for a degree in commercial art and played guitar in a band on the weekends.

When I was nineteen years old, I joined the Navy and was an avionics technician. This fit in well with my childhood habit of taking things apart and repairing them.  I enjoyed doing this kind of work.

When I was twenty-three years old, I left the Navy and at 24 years old I married Richard. Richard wanted me to have a regular office job so  I had to say goodbye to a career in electronics.

When I was thirty-one years old, I became a banker.  I didn’t choose the profession, it chose me.  But it was a good profession while it lasted until I was forty-nine years old.

Now I am unemployed and have to decide again what I want to be when I grow up.

In the meantime, I am volunteering at the hospital working with patients.

Life is funny, isn’t it?

 

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5 Responses to When I grow up

  1. It’s a wonderful circle of life, Natasha. I have a similar work history with a few dream starts, a long career in computers, then an exploration period to bring me back to updated versions of my dreams. Now, I love creating stained glass art. Volunteering was instrumental for me — it provided education, experience, colleagues, & leads to employment. I’m sure you’ll find the same — good luck & have fun. 😉

  2. chmjr2 says:

    The road that life takes us on. I think the saying goes ” if you want to hear God laugh tell him your plans”. I have given him some big laughs in my life time.

  3. Pingback: Not there yet, but almost. | The Hempstead Man

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