When I Grow Up

The first step on my quest for full time employment took me to the University careers office (which happens to be in the old doctor's surgery, a building that has never filled me with joy or optimism). Expecting a dismal outlook and blank job notice boards, I was faced with the ultimate 'don't ever ask me this' encouraging question: What do you want to be when you grow up?

This is a question that requires hope, determination and, most importantly, imagination. The answer must be strong and ambitious, preferably referring to saving the world or building robots. Saying 'an office junior' or 'a stay-at-home Mum' isn't ideal, no, they want astronauts and scientists and entrepreneurs. "Something to do with books?" was my response, hesitant and scared, feeling ridiculous for suggesting something actually related to my degree.

It went down well. We looked on websites. We went through leaflets on routes into the publishing industry. We discussed sweet talking receptionists to gain information about companies. We, naturally, came up with no helpful answer.

My homework is to create a CV. CVs are the perfect opportunity to win over potential employers. You're actively encouraged to boast about the skills that you have gained over the years and lie about your interest in classic Hollywood movies. This is my chance to shine! I have a Grade I certificate in Jazz Ballet (awarded after a touching dance impersonating a wave), have had artwork displayed in the Tate Gallery in St. Ives (admittedly so did every other primary school in Devon) and can play the clarinet (no Grades to boast about there though). This is my sure-fire route into the tough, cruel world of publishing. It won't matter that I can't afford to undertake unpaid work experience. My interests list of 'magazines from the 80s, Gilmore Girls and strong coffee' shows my extraordinary ability to waste time and live in decades gone by. These are the vital skills needed for a grown up job with books and will, almost certainly, guarantee me an exciting new job.

Or perhaps, and most likely, it will take me all the way back to step one. The front step of the careers office. My old friend.