I used to want to be a musician. And be famous and rich and all that crap. I learned how to do all the stuff, and did all the research, and what killed it for me in the end was how spectacularly most entertainers crash.
I can’t tell you how many groups I’ve known who worked their whole life to make that first album, and it’s almost always a killer, because they’ve heard it in their heads over and over for years. So they get some airplay and they go on tour to support the album. Then they stay on the road to pay for the recording sessions. Then it’s a year later and the company wants another album. Well, they don’t have one yet, because they’ve been on the road for a year playing the first one. Now they have to assemble a second album out of leftovers from the first one, and some new songs that they don’t have time to develop. Then it’s back on the road to pay for the second album.
By the third album, they’ve seen both oceans several times, and they still don’t have a cent to show for it. That’s when the troubles start, and a LOT of bands don’t make it past the third album. Then there’s crooked management and questionable practices at the label. One day, you find that you are legally unable to perform anywhere, and that your albums are out of print all of a sudden, and you can’t raise anybody at the label, and you owe thousands and thousands of dollars but your bank account is empty.
The knowledge that this goes on all the time, every day, to thousands of people was enough to make me give up. I was lucky enough to be able to go back to my other love, radio. Now I’m far away from the starmaker machinery behind the popular song, and I suppose it’s OK. I had to look at it realistically. I don’t have what it takes to go through all that. Not enough insatiable ego and drive to be #1. I’m probably better off without the trappings of fame. I’m doing alright now.
Not so odd - I did the same thing! Majored in journalism, minored in graphics. Glad I did - I enjoyed being a graphic artist a whole lot more than being a journalist. It only took me a year of working on a daily paper to figure out that I didn’t want to be a reporter any longer. As for editing …
“I am not the editor of a newspaper and shall always try to do right and be good so that God will not make me one.” - Mark Twain
TellMeI’mNotCrazy - Sorry, if you want to work with chimps, you are crazy. Either that or you must have some kind of romantic view of them that is complete crap. Chimpanzees are evil, vicious bastards. Would you want to “work” with the criminally insane? No? Then you don’t want to work with chimps.
How come they look so non-threatening on tv? I know they’ve been known to fling some poo on occasion (hey…who hasn’t?) but I had no idea they were little fuckers.
At the risk of sounding defensive, what are you basing this on? I’m fairly certain that my view of chimpanzees isn’t at all romantic, and I’m not looking for working with cute, fuzzy little pseudo-humans. Chimpanzees are amazing animals, but they are exactly that - wild animals. They’re very strong, can have violent tendencies, and can certainly inflict a fair amount of harm on a human. Of course, the amount of harm they’ve inflicted on us is miniscule in comparison to the harm they’ve received at the hands of humans. A vast majority of the number of chimp attacks on humans are either cases of chimps in captivity that come from backgrounds that teach them that humans are a threat, or in habitats where the human presence moves closer and closer. I have never seen anything that indicates they are inherently evil or criminally insane - if you have information to prove me wrong, I’m willing to reconsider my stance.
I’ve seriously wanted to be a radiologist. I had no doubt upon entering college that I wanted to be a physician of some sort–I definitely had the grades for it and the desire. But somewhere in sophomore year, I just OD’ed on maths and sciences. I loved them, but for some reason, I just lost my passion for it. Instead, I became interested in journalism and then photography, which is where I am now.
I’ve experienced one or two relapses in which I thought finishing off my pre-med requirements might be a good idea, but after speaking with several of my friends who did become doctors, and hearing about their workloads and debt, I’ve decided I’ve definitely made the correct decision. I value my free time too much to ever be a serious enough doctor.
I never knew what I wanted, which was my whole problem. So I went to law school, and now I work in a capacity kind of like a law clerk, researching criminal issues for circuit court judges. It’s an okay job, but I despised law school and still don’t really want to be a lawyer. In fact, I could say I’m completely miserable, but that’s okay because I may lose my job if I didn’t pass the Bar Exam this past time. And then I’ll be back to square one, only in debt with student loans and unemployed.
I always wanted to be a Pip (as in Gladys Knight and the). I never got to be one, so I don’t know if it was the right career for me or not. But seriously, I could do this . . .
(Colors: Gladys, Me and the other Pips)
He’s leavin’
Leavin’
on that midnight train to Georgia
leavin’ on that midnight train
Said he’s goin’ back
Goin’ back to find
To a simpler place and time.
Whenever he takes that ride, guess who’s gonna be right by his side
And I’ll be with him
I know you will
On that midnight train to Georgia
Leavin’ on the midnight train to Georgia. Whoo whoo.
I’d rather live in his world
Live in his world
Than live without him in mine.
Her world is his - his and hers alone.
The only thing I ever wanted to be (besides a grape-munching lady of leisure) was a writer. I didn’t know if I could make a living at it, and didn’t want to have to work retail or other low-paying jobs while trying (and possibly failing miserably) to get myself published. I know my own limitations and there are so many careers for which I am wholly unsuited. I started college later than usual with a major in computer science. I not only hated it, but found it boring. I switched to accounting after one semester, briefly considering and rejecting economics, though I’ve always been interested in it. I graduated decently in accounting last fall and chose another degree to make my one hundred fifty hours. My choice this time was economics.
I am irrationally terrified that I will never be able to find a job, or that I will only get one I could have gotten as easily without a degree. I’ll have my second degree this fall and still wonder if I’ve made a horrible mistake.
I wanted to be an archaeologist, until I grew up and realized that archaeology isn’t some Indiana Jones-esque series of adventures, but scrabbling around in a dirty hole in some backwater (if you’re lucky enough to work out in the field). Backbreaking work for jack and squat.
So, I’ll sit back and cling to my romantic views from afar.
I went as far as to get into a Ph.D. program in astrophysics. In my second year, I realized that I hated my advisor and that “never” would be the best time to do another #$#@*! integral.
I left with a Master’s, and became a UNIX system admin.
Now, Mr. Neville is finishing a postdoc in astronomy, and will soon start seriously looking for a job. I watch him, and realize that I would never have been able to put up with all that he has to get to where he is. So I’m glad I left.
I still hate my advisor. Someday, when the stars are right, I will start a Pit thread for people to bitch about their advisors, and I will tell the whole sordid story.
Meteorolgy. Went to a top school in the field, got my degree, but by the time I was midway through my junior year I knew I was never going to work in the field. The National Weather Service was staffed by approaching-middle-age men (mostly) who ad been trained as observers during the Vietnam War and who weren’t going anywhere (many had since completed degrees). The cool jobs I envisioned of working in the Severe Storms Lab or the National Hurricane Center were not available and what were were observer positions in Barrow, AK, or Barstow, CA that paid $19,000 a year.
TV was in a time where the “offbeat, goofy” weathercaster was in vogue. That was so not me. Plus, the life of a TV news “talent” is way less glamourous than it might seem. Starting in market 250 on $17,500 and working your way up the chain, moving every couple of years was not appealing to me.
I did a variety of things to pay the bills and get some experience and now I sell software. I am the least “salesguy” person in the world, but my field is ridiculously narrow and requires a lot of esoteric knowledge. I can show up at a prospect’s office and communicate knowledgeably with the end user and the IT staff, and walk away (6 months later) with a six-figure deal, just because they trust me and know I’m not BSing them.
This is me since the massage therapy debacle. Did you see “Office Space”? I just love the scene where the main character is talking about how his guidance counselor tried to help him figure out what he might like to do.
“What would you do if you had a million dollars?”
So I’m not the only one! But I didn’t ever take any sort of class in graphics, or design, or anything like that. I just backed into it, accidentally, with no training whatsoever. Fumbled my way into a career, basically.
I only lasted as a reporter for about four months. Then I got to experience the hell of editing and production/newsroom management, because the fun bit of being a columnist held me in the paper’s grip.
You guys are totally looking at this the wrong way. I started off going for my biology degree, did better in English than in Biology, got my medical laboratory technologist diploma because I didn’t see a big future with an English degree, worked as a lab tech in three different situations, became a business machine repair technician, worked at that for a couple of months, took a secretarial course, and have worked at that for nine years, mostly in Accounting departments, took a whole bunch of web design courses, took a introduction to Records Management course, and am registered to start a Horticultural Design course this fall.
It has all been fascinating. I’ve explored all kinds of interests of mine, worked at them for a while, and moved on. I would have been bored to tears just taking one degree in University and working at that for the rest of my life, and I think the rest of you would have, too. No need to lament career path “mis-steps” - it’s all part of a rich tapestry. You should take more diverse paths, and relish them, if that’s your nature.
Always wanted to be a writer. Started taking some courses and fell in love with Literature as a subject. Was advised that I would make a great teacher, and so the combination of being a Literature/Writing teacher seemed an ideal compromise.
Started taking courses toward that end, and slowly lowered my goals from Professor of Literature to Grammar School English teacher (no offense to anyone concerning my view that I was “lowering” my goals… teachers on any level have nothing but my utmost respect), until one day I realized that I’m one of the last people in the world that should be A) put into close, personal contact with an overbearing parent, and B) allowed to help shape the future lives of so many young children in any capacity beyond pure academics.
Tried to backpedal and switch back over to an English major so I might do something along the lines of editor or proofreader, but things fell apart and real life called and my short venture into higher learning was cut abruptly short.
I’ve wanted to be a scientist since I was eight, a biologist since I was eleven. Majored in biology, interned in labs over my summer breaks, started my PhD, and about two years in had an epiphany - I hate working in lab. I hate the nitpickiness of it all, the (necessarily) tininess of the questions that you have to ask. I have no idea what I want to do with my life now, and it’s freaking me out - I’ve always known exactly what I wanted to do, so this undefined-ness scares me.
I’m working in the career I thought I wanted. pffft. Maybe it’s just the current job I have now. In the past six months I’ve found myself thinking much too frequently, “If I could just survive on less money, or had a partner who was working, I’d walk out of this office right now and never come back.”
I wake up gripped with dread every morning, walk into work every day, expecting to be lambasted or fired for incompetence, and fantasize about quitting. But when the hammer finally falls, I still don’t know what I’d do with myself next. I hear there are plenty of job openings in Iraq.
