When I Grow Up.

My dream job is to be a professional reader. Someone who reads. A literary connoisseur. In my ideal world I would get paid to sit in my apartment, or in a coffee shop, or in the library, and read books all day. No work, just reading and books. That would be the best job in the universe.

Now, I’m not speaking of working as an editor or a publisher or a book reviewer. What fun is reading if someone is constantly checking up on you, wanting to know if you are finished yet? What fun is it if I have to write a report or review on the book that requires me to pay plenty of attention and look for non-existent symbolism while I am reading? I just want to read all day with no one looking over my shoulder and no expectations.

I just want to read.

Is there a job out there like this? If there isn’t, there surely needs to be. Have you ever been in the library or the bookstore and seen all the lonely books sitting on the shelves that you know no one has read? I bet all the other books laugh and make fun of them because no one wants to read them. Well laugh no more because I would read them. I could be like the book godmother, reading all the lonesome books.

Plus, I won’t have to worry about feeling guilty for reading when I should be doing something else. Throughout school I would often feel guilty when reading for pleasure because I felt I should be doing homework or reading for class. I felt remorseful because I should have been doing something productive with my time, instead of being selfish. But if reading were my job, then I wouldn’t I feel this selfishness.

Do you get it? I could read all the books. ALL the books! Or at least all the books in English. Can you imagine how big my brain will be and filled with arbitrary knowledge? On the plus side I would totally rock at Trivial Pursuit and Jeopardy.

Okay, I’m off to search the career boards for my new reading job!




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