L'avenir

When I was little, I wanted to be a princess. Then I wanted to be a ballet dancer. I used to run around my lounge wearing a pink floaty skirt, with knitting wool wrapped around my legs like ribbons, and jump around. Those of you who know me can imagine how amusing this was for the rest of my family. Those of you who don't, let's just say I've never exactly been the most elegant of people.

As I got a little bit older, maybe around five, I started to get more humble aspirations. I wanted to work in a shoe shop, or be a nun. I should probably stop here and explain that the reason I wanted to work in a shoe shop is because I thought that the machines they had for measuring your feet were the most amazing things in the world, and the nun idea came from watching 'Madeleine' too many times. But anyway, shoe shop or nun.

Needless to say,  these aspirations left me after a while, too. Whilst I would happily take a temporary job in a shoe shop, it is not my lifetime wish to fit shoes for people. For a start, I hate feet. And the nun thing? Just not sure it's for me, really.

Anyway, after this I went through hundreds of career options. Notable ones included a doctor (discarded after my mum told me hospital stories), a journalist (just not really my type of writing), a writer (a girl can dream), an actuary (put into my head by my dad. At the time, I liked numbers), a publisher (linked to the writing thing), and a lawyer (mainly said to appease my parents after I said I didn't want to do Chemistry or Maths at university. Discarded because I, quite frankly, am not made to be a lawyer. No matter how good I am at arguing).

The thing is, this big ol' thing called 'THE FUTURE' has always been a really far off, distant place on the horizon, this thing that I don't have to properly think about yet, because there's always time to change your mind later, as long as you keep your options open. It was always "when I grow up, I'm going to be...", and 'grown up' was a long way off.

Except now, at twenty-one, in my penultimate year at university, 'THE FUTURE' is suddenly a lot closer. I'm not, by any means, a "grown-up" (heaven forbid). But there comes a time when people start changing the question from "what are you going to be when you grow up?" to "so what's next?" It's a bit scary.

But I'm fortunate, because I have a plan. A shaky, what-if-hopefully-maybe-iffy-but-when-what-how plan, but a plan nonetheless. As I said in this post, I plan to go into teaching. This has been the plan for many months now. What I was going to teach has changed throughout those months from one subject to the next, and from one level to the next. However, gradually over recent months, weeks, and even days, I have narrowed down my choices, and formed a plan. I have done research, enrolled on courses, sent emails, spent more money than I would care to mention, and umed-and-ahed about a lot of things, but I have a plan, to fulfil an ambition that makes me feel excited about life. Because, dear readers, I am going to be a languages teacher. Educating children with one of the best gifts you can give them: a second language. OK, so it may not be exciting for lots of other people, but the idea positively thrills me.

So yes. I have plans. I have made decisions. I have enrolled on a German course. I have organised work experience. Readers, believe it or not, there is a grown-up somewhere inside me waiting to leap out.

But not yet. Far to early to be a grown up yet. :-P