Lisha Cassibo has been writing for the Uxbridge Cosmos for two years, both as a freelancer and as a columnist. She has also written for several parenting magazines both here in Canada and for English publications in Switzerland. She graduated from Carleton University with an honours degree in Journalism and English Literature. She lives with her family in Sunderland.
When I grow up, I want to be... ?
OK. How pathetic am I? I can’t answer that question. I’ve never been able to answer that question. Which means I either haven’t grown up, or that I have no real goal, calling, destination in life.
I don’t mean for this to sound too morose, but this is a little subject I have been tackling in my head, lately, and I’m not sure if I like where it’s leading me.
A friend asked me this question not long ago, and I laughingly shrugged it off. But then I got to thinking about it, and I realized that I had never been able to answer this question, only because I have never really had any burning desire to be one particular thing.
Actually, that’s not true. I did know, deep inside, what I wanted to do, but I knew that it just wasn’t feasible. I wanted to act, I wanted to be on the stage, in front of the camera, on a street corner, I didn’t really care where I was, I just wanted to act. My parents, as wonderful and as supportive as they were, just couldn’t wrap their heads around their daughter being “one of them.” I was told from birth that I was going to go to university and be “something”, so that was that. I did ask if I could go to what was then Ryerson Polytechnical Institute for acting, but was sternly told that it was NOT a university, so that was a big no. At a loss for what to get all highly educated for, I was flipping through a Chatelaine magazine one day at the doctor’s office right around university admissions time, and noticed that some lady being interviewed had her Bachelor of Journalism degree. I thought that sounded pretty cool, much cooler than just a general Bachelor of Arts, so I did some research and went to university.
It was all planned out for me, right up until the day I graduated. And I fear I’ve kind of drifted ever since. I knew three days into my program that I would NEVER be a CBC reporter, so where did that leave me? I had to find work, and I feel like, ever since then, I’ve just been “finding work”. Not really DOING anything meaningful. Not waking up with a purpose every morning, doing justice to the very expensive piece of paper hanging on my wall.
Thing is, this doesn’t make me unhappy. People I know joke about how many jobs I have, and what I’m doing at any particular time. Since graduation I have worked as: a receptionist, a video/television production assistant and producer, an ESL teacher, a piano teacher (that’s actually been pretty constant for 21 years now), a bus driver, a dispatcher, a waitress/hostess, an actor (yeah me!) a freelance writer (my dad’s so proud I’m using my degree!), a babysitter, a gardener, a cashier, a retail manager, and I’m sure I’m forgetting a few. I think I’m only missing nuclear engineer and rocket scientist.
I’ve realized that this has, for the most part, happened because I needed to pay rent or a mortgage and pay bills and put food on the table. And I guess this is the goal of anyone who goes out to work. I mean, really, we don’t do it for fun or the good of our health, do we? But it really is disconcerting when filling out an application or something and you get to that blank that says “occupation” and you have NO idea what to put. Where to start? Do they really want to know? So I fill it in according to my needs at the time.
So I’m wondering if I am indeed a loser, a jack of all trades, master of none, or a product of our times, someone who is doing what they need to do to fill the gaps. Someone who works to live, rather than who lives to work. I would LIKE to think I am the former. I would like to think that I am fortunate to be able to leave the office at work and do things that do bring in money ( I have worked continuously since I was 17, save the three times I took a bit of time to, you know, have a baby, and even then it was only a few weeks, so it’s not like I’m lazy!) but don’t occupy my every waking thought. I can’t deny, though, that I worry that I’m “wasting my life”, not having one single thing that I live for.
Wait a second – my girls just came in the door. Yeah. I DO have one (make that three) things I live for, and I would do a million little jobs to make sure that we can really live. Stuff the suit, stuff the corporate whatever – I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep us happy and healthy and give us lots of time together.
Job well done.
