...other than what you are working as right now/studying to be, then:
1. What would you love to be working at and why?
The two great loves of my life are writing and architecture. I, allegedly, went to one of the best private boys schools in Melbourne. When I was in year 11 and expressed a desire to be an architect, the careers councillor said to me, Oh Chris, you have always been a business student, you couldn't possibly be an architect because you have never done physics. As a 17 year old, I just accepted what she said blindly.
And despite my constant poetry and prose writing, the school never picked up on that either.
I have just recently finished a writing degree, just as a personal goal. What I am going to do with it, I'm not sure. What am I saying, I'm going to become a great, published author.
If I'd stop blogging and start writing something useful, that is. (Come on Aby, sell that damn script) I've got two novels and two film scripts at various stages, at the moment.
But architecture will always be a regret for me.
Sorry mum and dad, but I have to say you blew your dough on my education.
2. Also what is the one job that you can never see yourself doing and why?
I could never be an ambulance driver. I just couldn't stomach that potential trauma around every corner.
I'm sure it would be very rewarding, being able to help people when they are, probably, most in need. But I would end up having a nervous break down, I just couldn't handle, what I perceive, to be such a high stress occupation.
I once had a girl OD at work (An old job many moons ago - the baby-faced manager who some punters found hard to take seriously) and I had to call an ambulance to help her. Those guys couldn't have been nicer, more patient, or kinder to that girl. They won my heart that day, as I watched as useless bystander.
3. What would be the most unfit occupation for you (even though you may prefer to do it)?
I couldn't be a doctor. I am squeamish when it comes to blood. I faint at the sight of operations, I shudder if I see a scalpel cutting skin. I can feel the blade piecing my own skin, in a creepy kind of, chill up the spine, way. Broken bones make me wobbly, literally. Hurt people - physically, that is - make me nervous and uneasy. (I'm good with emotional hurt, less blood) Illness simply makes me... as much as I hang my head in shame at this admission... um, weak. A bit like vertigo - nauseous and dizzy.
2 comments:
I've always wanted to be a writer, although you wouldn't know it from my blog! If only I could actually sit down and bang a whole book out/get paid upfront as an unknown yet bursting with potential artist of the pen..
You can. The only thing that stops someone from writing is time and effort put in. Just start writing, write from the heart, don't go back and correct it, just keep going. Try to finish it, rough as it is. Re-writing will soon come, that's actually the hard part.
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