Growing up

I talked with a colleague today who said she still didn't know what she wanted to be when she grew up. I laughed because I sympathized with her dilemma.

As long as I can remember, Daddy had told me I should be a statistician, that I was good at it, and I believed him without reservations when I was young. However, there were times in grad school and early in my career when I had my doubts.

During the summers of 1985 and 1986, I played the piano in the lobby of Old Faithful Inn in Yellowstone National Park. It was the best summer job in the world. The work hardly seemed like work, the pay and tips were great, I met lots of fun people, and there was always so much to do and so many places to go. My second year there, my brother worked there, too, and we had a great time on some amazing backbacking trips. I also dated a cowboy that summer, and through him, I met some bar and ski resort owners, several of whom offered me jobs for the ski season or for the summer.

When things would get tough in my life, I would dream about being back out in Wyoming or Idaho, married to Greg and playing the piano for a living. It seemed ideal, perfect. Of course, it's simple to think it's perfect when it's just a dream. Real life has a way of making things less than perfect.

I still love playing the piano and singing, but I'm so happy working on seasonal adjustment projects for clients. There is nowhere else I'd like to be and nothing else I'd like to be doing. It doesn't mean that I won't go back to school someday, or that I won't start piano lessons again, but even if that happens, I don't want to give up my work on time series.

So today, talking about what we wanted to be when we grew up, I realized that I'm finally there. I do want to be a statistician, with no reservations.

Being grown up feels pretty good after all.