When I was about 5, out shopping with my mother, a neighbour we bumped into asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Apparently, I beamed up at her, and said: "I want to be an alcoholic, so I can hang out with my dad." Proud as punch with myself, while my mortified mother dragged me away.
Out from that, I had notions of being an artist. Four failed attempts at art college later, I work as a chef. Funny how life turns out, eh?!
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