When I Grow Up . . .

After my first trip to Sea World in elementary school, I decided that I was going to swim with dolphins when I grew up.  Yes, it was that simple.  My father informed me (after my excited declaration) that I would become a marine biologist.

From second grade on, I believed that one day I would become a marine biologist to swim with dolphins everyday.  I told everyone this.  

I could do nothing but chuckle at my naivety upon discovering the extensive science education required to become a marine biologist.  Even in elementary school, science and math were not my favorite subjects.  

After that, I lost all direction.  When choosing a major, my decision was based on my mother's insisting I was a good writer.  I figured, 'What the heck, I enjoy it; may as well be a journalist.'

Today, when I think about what I truly wanted to do when I grew up as a child, I imagine myself exploring.  I remember flipping through my grandfather's National Geographic magazines wishing I could be inside the pictures.  In high school, when I would drive to school, I would imagine just passing right by and driving as far as my gas tank would allow.  Just to see someplace new.  

I would imagine myself in a motel room, crouched below a desk lamp, scribbling in a notebook and listening to waves crash outside the window.  I was writing a novel.  The lamp was always green.