The Chameleon

I need to do a myriad of occupations. I want to be a tram driver, a ballerina, a teacher, a pilot, a hairdresser, a beautician, a charity worker, a social worker, a psychologist, a farmer, a comedienne, a zoo keeper, a vet, a writer, a journalist, a photographer, a film critic, an archaeologist, a food critic, a theatre critic, a playwrite, a theatre director, a film director, a talk show host, a radio show host, a singer, an astronaught, a princess, a marine-biologist, a jeweller, a pastry chef, a freedom fighter, a chocolatier, a shopkeeper, a coursetier, a perfumiere, a spy, a dog-groomer and the list gets longer every single day. 

My mother sometimes refers to me as her 'chameleon' and it took me a few years to work out why. I want to be these people, have these jobs and experience these amazing lives. I love to immerse myself in the fantasy. So much so that sometimes it's difficult to accept an ordinary world. If my ordinary is really what others think is ordinary. . . 

This is why it's so good to be able to act. For me, it's the best way I can be all these different people in one lifetime. It's not that I really am qualified at these occupations, but at least I can pretend. I've always been such a great pretender. How do we really know when we aren't pretending?

Today I want to be a fairy. A fairy? Yes, I understand how odd it might sound. But not really. Not for me. I could be one of those girls who dresses up in a sparkly, floaty costume and entertains little girls (and the odd boy) at a Fairy Party. I'd be REALLY good at that. I love glitter. I love pretty things. I love to sing and dance. Maybe this is what I will do.
Until another idea comes along. . .