What I Want to be When I Grow Up

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November 9, 2014 by kbaldy15

We all remember being asked at some point or another in our childhood. It’s the question that drives us through high school and into college, and will likely define a large portion of our adult lives. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” It’s a question with an xextremely fluid answer when you’re young–one day it may be an astronaut, the next day it may be a dinosaur–and one that it becomes increasingly important to zero in on as you get older. And that’s the point I’ve reached in my life–I’m about to graduate from college with a Bachelor of Arts in Theatre and English, so deciding exactly what I want to do is rather important considering the wide array of options I’ll be presented with (please, do not miss my sarcasm here). You hear so often about how you should “do what you love,” but many people aren’t afforded that opportunity due to the pressures to actually find a job (the other people get BAs in English and Theatre…). So since I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, I’ve decided to do a group post about it. I want everyone to post what their dream job would be, given the caveats that you would be qualified for any job you want, and that it must be an actual job (no getting paid to travel and lounge about the world). Secondly, post a job you could never do and explain why. Have at it!

The Actor

As a 22 year old that’s about to graduate, I’m still trying to put the “when I grow up” part out in front of me. Like, a ways out in front of me.

My reaction to “Being an adult”

You see, all of those dreams that you have when you’re a kid and then eventually decide to give up on because it’s just not realistic to become a dinosaur…yeah, I’m still working on those (the dinosaur one is proving difficult, but you get my point). I switched “what I wanted to be” almost weekly. One week it’d be an astronaut, the next the President, and a medieval knight after that. They all just seemed so neat! Eventually I decided I’d be a doctor because it seemed smart and important (two of my favorite things), but still, I felt a sense of despair when it came to tossing all those other dreams out the window. So, upon the realization that I would be an absolutely horrible doctor, I took on a very “why not?” mentality in my pursuit of a dream job. I knew I was unqualified (or born 600 years-a few millenia too late) for most of the “dream jobs,” but I still wanted them. I think that’s what I like so much about acting–there’s the potential for me to get to be anything and everything I ever wanted to be, but without actually having to be able to do it. Could I be President? (yes) Probably not. Could I play a President? You bet your ass I could.

The Professor

While I am still in the fledgling stages of adulthood and they say the younger generations will change careers three times in their lives, theoretically, I just started my dream job.

That’s what they tell me.

Seriously, though.

While I could drop a Serious-Bomb all over this dreamfest (i.e. A teacher with a livable salary, A teacher in a country that values education, A teacher…well, you get the idea), I’ll choose, instead, a travel writer as my dream job.  I just read an essay by Ann Patchett describing how she put in eight years of freelance writing to get to a position where she could travel, eat, and enjoy all the wonderful points of life on somebody else’ dime.

I’d like to fly a house to South America, please. For free.

Eight years of having other people assign me work, making me rewrite it countless times, only to butcher it to fit into a smaller-than-anticipated slot on a page with a larger-than-we-thought photograph of an airbrushed model wearing the newest fashions available at outrageous prices to the less-than-common man—no, please.

I’m going to go enjoy a mock-honeymoon touring the Mediterranean, sparing no expense, writing a delightful tale of the life and times I observe mixed with commentary and anecdotes from the life I live and when I’m done live in silence in the woods for three weeks and then take a plane, a train, and an automobile across the country just to see which is good/bad, better/worse, worst/best—yes, thank you.

The Doctor

At this point, I’m fairly grown up with a pretty definite idea of what I want to do with my life.

Study and take tests?

No. No more of that.

Anyways, I’m already working towards what I want to do–be a doctor. So I’m going to push the limits of this dream job idea.

See, there’s this thing–a totally real thing–called Action Team 14. Action Team 14 is the United Nations international response to the threat to Earth from near-Earth objects (NEOs).  In other words, it’s their plan for how to deal with a potential asteroid-like catastrophe.

Almost! But not quite. And less Bruce Willis.

The plan is to actually try to move the asteroid out of a collision course (not blow it up), whether that’s by rockets, solar sails(!!), or gravity tractors (!!!!).

Right!? How awesome is that!?

As a kid, I always wanted to be an astronaut. Unfortunately, these days adulthood and medical school have made that pretty unlikely.

Life…sigh

But, as any sci-fi space movie has taught me, every space crew needs a doctor. And I want it.

The Musician

My dream job would look a little like this:

That’s Stephen Sondheim, and that thing that looks like a blanket is a music score. For those of you who don’t know (and therefore lead a sad life), Stephen Sondheim is arguably the greatest stage musical composer of all time. “Arguably” because I’m sure there’s someone out there who thinks someone else is better, but in my book, Sondheim lords over them all.

— Every composer that isn’t Sondheim

I would love to be a composer for either film or musicals, but if I had to pick, I’d do musicals. If I did film, I’d want it to be movie musicals; like 90’s Disney musicals. So basically, my dream job is to be Stephen Sondheim or Alan Menken.

I don’t really have specific reasons for why I think it would be fun, which is probably weird considering I said it’s my dream job. I just think it would be really, really fun! I already listen to Broadway songs all the time, but there’s a big difference between listening to the music and creating the music.

Granted, I’m pretty sure if I ever tried to compose and then orchestrate an entire score for a musical, it would end like this:

But hey, it’s a dream job for a reason, right?

The Actor

It’s been discussed on the blog before how much I dislike fish. Just in case you missed any of the times it’s been discussed, let me recap for you:

Aw crap. I mean…not you, Dori…

So anyways, it was a pretty easy choice for me when it came to what job I would like least in all the world: Deep Sea Fisherman. Ever seen commercials for shows like The Deadliest Catch? That seems like a living hell to me. Now, oddly enough, a lot of these things seem okay to me when the job is classified as a “Pirate,” but I think I’ll stick to the acting of that role as well. Spend all your time confined to a boat, surrounded by miles upon miles of ocean, subject to any hellish maelstrom that gets tossed your way, only to haul out either hundreds of smaller fish, or a couple of the leviathans pulled up from the depths of Hell (or the ocean, whatever you want to call it).

Can be up to 12 feet wide

Called “a living dinosaur”

What the hell is that!?

Now sure, those aren’t necessarily the types of fish I’d be catching, but considering oarfish have been washing up on shore lately, I think I’ll take my chances by staying inland instead of knocking on Hell’s Gates.

The Professor

Since we share a common fear of the deep sea—the very thought of which fills me with the desire to choose hellfire in exchange for never considering its existence again—marine biology and anything resembling a position on, in, or near ocean monster-beasts of death is obviously on the top of the list of positions I’d kill people to leave.  In an effort to merely echo the sentiments already laid out, rather than copy them, I’ll go for a non-hotdog related profession.

Marketing/Advertising would be the death of me.  The manipulative nature of the job, the socially terrifying implications of the current market, the dependence on social media and other forms of telecommunication would set me on a path towards sociopathy.

Even the presence of the hashtag raises my irritation level…

I can’t say for sure, but I think two hours on the job would be enough.  I’d spend the rest of my days making sure that this happened:

Nationwide.

The Doctor

I’m going to one-up Kyle here. I hate fish too, but only when I’m actually in the water. Otherwise I can touch them.

Within reason. And preferably with a stick.

On a semi-related note, I also hate snorkeling. I might be okay with scuba diving, since you can just stay underwater. But with snorkeling, my problem is the fins. I always dive down, swim around, then look up and panic because there’s no way I’m ever making it back to the surface. There’s also the intense fear that a fish is going to pop into my field of view.

I also don’t like caves very much. Turns out, I get a little bit claustrophobic and I don’t like the idea of not being able to turn around. Plus they’re dark. And I don’t like the dark.

Wrap it all up and you get my nightmare job. Spelunking. Yes, it’s more sport than job. But I’m sure some crazy person is out their is exploring/mapping caves for a living.

And that sounds awful to me.

The Musician

I don’t know why you guys hate the ocean so much, but this is an absolute no-brainer. There is one job that stands above the rest on my list of vile and contemptible jobs, and it can be summed up in one gif.

Let me point out the terrible things in this gif. First and foremost, he’s eating a hotdog, which are the most disgusting of all foods past, present, or future. There isn’t just one thing about them that disgusts me either — it’s literally everything about them; the way they’re made, the way they taste, and even the way they smell — pick anything that describes a hot dog, and you’d have a reason why I hate them.

Second, look at A) his facial expression, and B) the general convulsion of, well, his entire body. He looks like he’s either going to pass out or vomit, or vomit and then pass out in his vomit. It’s revolting. And let’s not forget that they dip the hot dogs in some type of liquid to make the bun easier to swallow before shoving it in their face.

Finally, look at the number at the bottom of the Joey Chestnut gif. Sixty. Eight. The man ate 68 hot dogs. I don’t even care how much time he did it in! If there’s one thing worse than eating a hot dog, it’s eating multiple hot dogs. And if there’s one thing worse than eating multiple hot dogs, it’s eating them quickly. Why someone would want to do this repeatedly and for a living, I have no idea. My only explanation is this: