If you could do anything…what would you do?
The enduring hypothetical question which lets us ignore any and all physical or mental shortcomings to adopt our dream persona. Stupid? Who cares- you could be the founder of Apple. Socially awkward? No problem, you could be the president of the United States. Have a stutter? No big deal! Be the host of American Idol. My own delusions of grandeur have led me to answer that question with the following: the guy who invented facebook, a rockstar… a super famous one, talk show host, food critic, basketball, baseball, tennis payer, actor, tattoo artist, any artist, opera singer, fashion designer, the list goes on. In fact, depending on my mood, the day, or even the time of day, my answer to the hypothetical changes drastically. And for any of you who are still wondering, yes, I regularly waste my time with this type of thought.
For example on a random summer Wednesday, at 5 pm, when I’m still at work, and will be here for what seems like eons- I mean into the endless abyss of eternity. I find myself wishing I were a school teacher. Summer off…wait let’s think of that again…summer offfff. Not summer casual Friday, not summer leave early Friday, not even summer Fridays, but the entirety of the summer off… yep school teacher it is (plus I get all those Jewish holidays).
However, all it takes is for me to drag my dying lifeless body into my friend’s building that very same evening at 7:30 (okay maybe it wasn’t eons) to change my mind. Yes, trapped in the elevator with an annoying snot slinging, glue sniffing, play-dough gnawing, whiny five year old (or maybe seven year old…I don’t know I can never tell these things) is all it takes for my whole body to physically reject the idea of children- I mean like every fiber of my being.
I literally catch myself looking at the offending parent, with a face of sheer disgust, thinking “Is that the best you can do? Really? That snot filled crying machine is the product of your gene pool? Congraguf*ckinglations ace.” Poof! Instantaneously, penchant for teaching vanishes.
Perhaps I’m better suited for a job where you can openly be obnoxious to people and they not only expect, it but they welcome it. Maybe B-List celebrity with a bad attitude like good ol’ Amanda Bynes. Gross no… Ok that blogger Perez Hilton-perfect. Or every Friday at 5 p.m., I throw my papers in the air and blaze outta the office like I just don’t care. Woot woot.
Ready to get my party on, like a rock star, or at least Nick Carter. But then, without fail, I bring in Saturday morning with my head pounding, my eyes blurry, and my stomach churning, and I inevitably find myself wishing a) I had a bagel and Gatorade and b) that I were a healthy, Green Peace, tree hugging, yogi so I wouldn’t be in this mess.
Everything, I mean everything changes my mind about my dream job. I read “The Firm” and want to be a smooth talking, ain’t takin’ no crap from nobody attorney. I pop a Godfather DVD in and I’m practicing my best “foggetaboudit” in the mirror, and talking with my hands. I have to purposely never put on America’s Next Top model, because honey… nature don’t lie… and even my twisted brain eventually pops my dream bubble so as to remind me that’s never happening (which for some unexplained reason always coincides with a happenstance encounter with a reflective object).
So what does it all mean? Why this obsession with what I want to be? Am I unhappy where I am? With what I’m doing? With who I am? Is who I am what I do? AHH!?!? ok breathe….fewf…
After I talk myself down from an existential ledge, I realize that here is not so bad. Here is meant for me right now. I mean, even I, with my head in the clouds, have that small shred of self awareness. Life is a little bit of chance and a whole lot of what you put back into it. I know I put in a lot, I try to make good choices and do my best. I can control that. And, knock on wood, I hope my luck doesn’t take a nosedive. Indeed I am right here, right now, because if I needed to be somewhere else, I would be. I guess I’m saying everyone has an inner compass. Some might need a little recalibrating but we are all on the right path-our own.
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