Yesterday afternoon I started to watch series 3 of Grey’s Anatomy on catch-up. I’m not sure why – I didn’t watch either of the previous two series and never really fancied it but still my arse has been glued to the sofa for 25 episodes.
As I was watching it, I started to think about people who are obsessed with their careers. People who are so driven to do something each day that it’s all they can think about. I’m not one of those people. Whenever I’ve had a job I really thought I wanted, it turned out I didn’t want it that much after all. Apart from this writing thing, which I’ve dipped in and out of over the years, I’m all about the ‘been there, done that, now what?’
Except when it comes to watching American medical TV shows. I think I’ve watched every episode of MASH ever broadcast. Several times. And House. I’ve learned so much medical stuff from watching these shows I’d probably be quite handy in a 54 car pile-up. I’m sure it’s not entirely correct learning – I’m under no delusions that I’d be able to pass any medical exams – but I do know the difference between cardiomyopathy and an autoclave.
I think the reason I find these shows so fascinating is that I’m a wee bit jealous of people who have jobs that are vocational. It must be so reassuring to be sure that you’re doing the right job. To have studied for a career, knowing that there’s a path for you to follow provided you’re willing to put in a bit of effort and follow the instructions.
But I’ve never been one for instructions and the nearest I ever got to a path is this quote I read a few years ago – There’s no such thing as a path of life, just a load of crazy paving that you put down yourself as you go along.
It’s certainly true for my life but I don’t find it at all comforting. If there is such thing as reincarnation (which I very much doubt), next time I want to be a vet.