An odd memory returned to me last night. Sorting through thoughts of what I’d like to do in the future led me to think about what it was in the past that I had wanted. I started thinking about childhood aspirations.

I remember I wanted to be a lot of different things. I wanted to be a fireman. A policeman. An astronaut. A rock star (I remember this one really fondly. I was about five years old, and my uncle asked me what I wanted to be. I gave him this answer, and proceeded to air guitar). Sometimes all of them at once.

Then I remembered an assignment my 1st grade teacher gave our class. She said, draw a picture of what you want to be when you grow up. My classmates had all those fun ideas that you normally get when you’re a kid.

Actor. Singer. Teacher. Karate Master. Superhero.

Then I remember my answer.

I wrote “Rocket Scientist” across the bottom of my page, and drew a guy in a lab coat at a computer desk.

I’m trying to figure out what was going through the head of my six year-old self when he drew that. Probably was trying to think of the smartest sounding job he could think of, and brain surgeon was too hard to draw.

Still. Six years old, and I wanted a desk job. Holy fuck.

This story doesn’t have a point. I just thought it was interesting.