What do you want to be when you grow up? When I was about 10 I answered with complete confidence: I wanted to be an air hostess.
That was the last moment in my life I’ve felt such certainty about my career. As a teenager I adopted the more sensible, if slightly vertiginous, position of not having the faintest clue. All I knew was I didn’t want to be a chambermaid or a filing clerk in a psychiatric outpatient department or work selling woks at Habitat. These were the only trades I had any experience of and found none of them satisfactory.
Even now I’m not quite sure what I want to do when I grow up. I’ve been stuck these past few decades in a remarkably pleasant siding, but still hoping that the answer to the question will one day come.
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