Alternate Realities

Amy from Mom Goes On has been generous enough to award me the Daydreamer Award. 

The rules are:

Thank you, Amy.

Ok, the challenge:

Just one dream job? Because at any given time I can fancy a plethora of occupations. The only unifying theme would be that no one would die if I messed up! (So, no ambitions to be a surgeon/paramedic/fire fighter/pilot/etc etc etc)

Over the years I’ve been a drifter, never with a vocation set in stone. I remember the first thing I wanted to be was a sales assistant in a shoe shop. (The smell of leather had me sold on that one at an early age…but then at some point I must have realised about the smell of unwashed feet. I have never worked in a shoe shop.)

Then I wanted to be:

– A ballerina

…but I had no talent;

– A kids’ TV presenter…but I have a face for radio but the voice for silent movies;

– A holiday rep/Virgin Atlantic air stewardess

…but then I had kids (and besides, I could never look that heavenly working a long haul flight in the heavens);

– A primary school teacher…but I realised I wanted to actually spend time with my family, not with planning and marking and the shadow of targets and Ofsted.

And thus I drifted some more.

I like to think that in alternate universes out there I am a prima ballerina, all lithe limbs and pointes-mangled feet, and a TV presenter complete with rictus grin and a cocaine habit, and an air stewardess with perfect make-up hiding sun-damaged and dehydrated skin, and a teacher with enough organisational skills to not have to spend the long 6-week summer holiday lesson-planning just to keep afloat.

And a shoe shop sales assistant. Preferably in Jimmy Choo. *Sigh*

Instead I work in a Lettings agency as an Accounts Administrator. Which was never on the dream list. I sit in a cupboard of an office and I tap away at a computer and a calculator and I try to make things balance so that people get paid on time.

But in a way it is a dream job. I work with lovely people. I have the flexibility to juggle work with family. I feel appreciated for what I do and I go home happy at the end of the day. 

But it doesn’t stop me from dreaming.

I’m pretty sure I’d be a kick-arse wedding planner. But then, bridezillas. Maybe not.

Or a photographer of kids’ parties. I love capturing those unguarded moments that kids are so willing to give. 

But there would definitely be a fair share of brats. And brats’ parents. Hmmm.

Ooh, or a Disneyland Princess! That’d be fun! And it’d certainly be a talking point on a CV. Sadly though I think I’m past the age for tripping about in tulle gowns. I’d more likely be cast as Mother Gothel, which would be more of a blow to the ego. 


Perhaps not.

Probably, ultimately, my (current) dream job would be to be a pro-dancer on Strictly Come Dancing (because, obviously, in this particular alternate universe I call Bubble World, I’m 15 years younger and am made of helium and rubber). Why? Because of the dresses, the make-up, the glitter, the shoes. Because 40+ hours of training always still looks like a blast and I’d have legs that go on forever and not an inch of fat. Because I’d get twirled and lifted and because of the feeling that is gliding round the floor in the arms of a man. Because of getting up close and personal with the celeb boys and the male pros. Mmmm. 

Yep, in my dream job I am Flavia Cacace. 

Some girls have all the luck.

OK, maybe not all of it.

Now, it’s my turn to set the daydreamer challenge. My nominees, you can choose. I either want to know:

Your dream vacation. Where would you go? Who would you take? What would you do?

I hope the following people are up for it:

Metaphorical Eye


Katie MorningStar (I’m really hoping her ideal vacation involves a lot of hot men wearing not very much.)

Bronwyn @ Journeys of the Fabulist (and my betting is that she’s already done it – this girl knows how to make a trip spectacular.)

Sometimes I Surprise Myself

I was hungry. Too small a lunch and too long til dinner. I reached for the chocolate tin.

I rifled and scrutinised and…

…I chose a banana from the fruit bowl instead.


A banana!

Mind you, we are having fish and chips, so I’m not going to get skinny any time soon.

But, y’know, I still surprised myself.