What did you want to be when you grew up?

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I am sitting here at Gate 39 at the airport, waiting to get on the plane to go to Melbourne where I will meet with some big cheeses from the cracker factory, to discuss collaborating on a project.

I am a fearful flyer, but I love to travel so I have had to squish down all the IMMA GONNA DIE feelings into the souls of my shoes. If it were not 8.55am I may have even partaken in a stiff drink. Instead I will eat this muffin.

Don’t you think that life is strange, how it all turns out. I have never had a life plan, but I married a dude who is a meticulous planner who thinks talking about his retirement is great fun.

He is 41.

According to him, we are going to live overseas 6 months of the year although I suspect we will end up in the permanent residents section of the Ettalong Caravan Park, and that is ok be me. As long as it has WiFi.

When I was little I wanted to be a vet until I realised that it was not all about patting puppies and kittens. You had to do gross stuff. Then I wanted to open a Chinese Restaurant. I recall telling my Mum I would give her a job on the till.

I wanted to play for the Western Sydney Magpies. I wanted to work at Miss Shop in Grace Bros. I wanted to be a backup dancer for Duran Duran. I would practice crawling across the floor to The Reflex for hours on end.

I wanted to be a checkout chicky when the barcode scanners were introduced. I found the BEEP to be very satisfying and I would have loved to have stood there all day swiping groceries and enquiring after customers well-being.

Later I would, like many a young girl, aspire to be the next Jana Wendt and study journalism. But in the cut-throat world, it turned out that I just could not be assed.

Right now, I am a blogger. Another move I would never have picked. It just sort of happened. Back in the old days, you couldn’t have made a career out of blogging. We just did it for shits and giggles. But things grow and change and you take your chances. This gig is a hard one to plan.

As for the next move, who knows? But it is fun to think about now and again. Maybe one of the MOMS on DANCEMOMS… (and I would give that Abbey Lee what for.)

The flight has been called. Best be off to discover whose hand I will be holding where my seat is.

What do you do for a job? Do you love it?

What did you want to be when you grew up?