At one point within the last five years, I was on the verge of getting trained for ASE certification. I like working on cars, and tend to do ok with it, and recognize that I have alot to learn. SWMBO was all for it, but then I got to thinking about how working on the MG and the Enfield were like my "my job stinks" after-work therapy, and that doing it full time might ruin it. As it is, I work on it when I want to or when I can, at my own pace. Doing it professionally would mean working on a clock and having to worry about customers moaning and groaning about repair costs and other such things. No thanks, for now.
Problem is that few of the jobs I've had fell into the good category. All but a couple have been pretty bad, actually. Seems I don't mix well with large multinational corporations. I've taken a good hard look at my life and what I think would be right, and have gone back to school to become a high school English teacher. I was planning to do that years ago, and ended up fighting it. Should have done it then and avoided the wasted time and dissatisfaction with my life, but oh well...
My dream job would probably be to write full time. I can do research-type writing, but that doesn't seem to pay the bills. I like writing, but it seems the creative spark that allows people like Stephen King and Gary Paulsen and Pat Conroy to do what they do seems absent with me. Some days, I feel like it might be over the next hill or around the next curve, but it hasn't been yet.
Back when I was four or five, my dream job was to be a garbageman. They drove big, loud, smoke-belching trucks, got to hang off the back, and part of the job included banging garbage cans around. Sounded perfect at the time. Runs in the family as my astrophysicist great-uncle felt the same way at that age.