Back when I was 15 - at school we had to do 'Careers' as a subject. We had a teacher who had the world's biggest combover, wore short sleeve shirts and wreaked of BO. Not terribly inspirational.
As part of this course we had to answer a questionnaire on the computer, which would then tally up your likes, dislikes, favourite colour, favourite food and personal disposition, and spit out what it thought you should be.
Sounds exciting, doesn't it?
So that computer spat out my results. What it thought I should be when I grew up.
A funeral director.
My 15 year old brain imploded.
And then I left it there.
I continued school, studying anything I could that would move me away from becoming a funeral director. Visual arts. Drama. Modern history. English. No biology.
So it must have been three years later, towards the end of year twelve, when school leavers are preparing to hit the real world, and I was working out which degree I wanted to apply for.
We had a different careers advisor by this time (phew) - and I shared my dream to tread the boards, and become an actress.
Her response: "You'll never make any money."
My 18 year old brain imploded.
Way to take my dreams, hold them up to the light, then throw them to the ground and stomp on them. Repeatedly. Way to go.
So I ditched the idea of going to NIDA.
I completely ditched it. Those dreams were dashed, and I've never really reconsidered it. Those poorly chosen words just kept ringing in my ears.
Instead the careers advisor told me I should pursue something like public relations.
And I did. I went to uni, attended one class of public relations theory, left that class and thought "I can't sit through that" - and enrolled in Writing instead. But worked in PR the whole way through my degree. I got the best of both worlds.
But lately I've been thinking of being a funeral director and how life would have been so different. It takes a gentle art to be a funeral director I think.
Have you ever had a mid-life crisis/career change?
image via: Daily Mail
No comments:
Post a Comment