Time for a career switch!

I am drunk with chocolate, day-dreaming about what my "real" calling is, if there is one at all.

I love stationery. It traces back to my childhood when stationery was a child’s (at least my) most coveted possession. Stationery was the measure of richness! My parents only got me stuff when I needed them. I could never hoard stationery. I always wanted to. I always wanted more than I needed. I ALWAYS envied people who had more riches than they needed. I remember the colourful, floral pencils that my benchmate had. He even tricked me into showing him a sum in class, and said he would get me those pencils. But didn't. :( I once even fought over a pretty sharpner my friend showed off, saying pretty things were always delicate, quoting a new saying I had picked up "All that glitters is not gold", all the while wishing I had that sharpner!

One winter, my uncle got my sister and me, a set of sketches, pencils and something else. Me being the younger one who couldn't resist the unfair monopoly the older sibling generally has over deciding who gets what, ended up with that something else. Of course, I wanted the sketches and the pencils! (Even if things didn't concern stationery, I never knew what I wanted until my sister decided what she wanted and then of course I wanted exactly that!)

Then there was the time of the notebook fetish. I always wanted to save up old notebooks' papers that I had, while my mom always wanted to dispose them. I loved the smell of new books. The old books of course had another interesting smell. And the times before school began, when you buy wrappers and notebooks; and sit with your thatha on the messy floor, covering your notebooks and labeling them. I distinctly remember phases when I hated this job, and other times that I just loved it. I loved the part when you did a neat job and could later say, "I covered it on my own", while all other kids had their moms doing it for them! When moms do the wrapping, they don't let you do much, lest you spoil it! But my thatha, ever so encouraging, would make sure I do it and would teach me tricks of doing it nicely. Then there were times when we used to wrap the notebook with shiny white back-of-the-calendar covers. My sister started this, and I followed suit. She later alleged that I had copied her; claims that I squarely denied! (evil laugh)

I have decided that I want to work in a stationery shop. Stationery always made me feel nice. I love the smell of a stationery shop. Erasers, pencils, highlighters and crayon packs give me a high. The more stationery I own, the richer I feel. Plus the customers are usually little kids. Therefore, I want to own a stationery shop. But since that would require business acumen (read shrewdness), I will make do with just working in a stationery shop, owned by somebody else. So will someone who owns a stationery shop, or someone who knows someone who owns a stationery shop, preferably in the peaceful town of Pondicherry, preferably overlooking the beach, preferably with a non-bossy owner who owns a lending library and who also gives chocolates and books out for perks, pleaaaaaaase let me know about it. Cause it is time to listen to my true calling!!!