Child me:
Main dream- I wanted to be a Disney voice actress and be in Broadway musicals. Had a passing desire to be a vet after one of my cats birthed kittens, but changed my mind when one of them died.
Backup plan- I wanted to own a little bookstore with a hot cocoa cafe inside, & a small apartment above it on the 2nd floor. I’d sell nothing but fairy tales & scary stories. There was to be a secret passage behind one of the bookcases that led to a speakeasy where I could be a lounge singer like Jessica Rabbit at night. Another secret passage behind a false wall near the bar, to get up to my apartment. There’d be a big fire escape outside my bedroom window, where I could climb out & look at the stars, or watch people on the streets below, or sing out at the sky like an overdramatic weirdo, walking up & down the fire escape stairs.
Retirement plan - I fully intended to end my days living in a creepy Victorian house, at the end of a long, narrow, suburban neighborhood street (with normal pretty little houses). I would have high walls in my backyard that no one could see over, concealing a lush garden that grew all kinds of food, and catnip. Cats would roam free, there. I’d let the paint peel on my porch, & leaves pile up. Cobwebs would be my outdoor curtains. I’d stay inside most of the time, dressed in nothing but black high-necked dresses with my hair completely gray & down to my feet. Playing with my cats. Who all hate children, growling and yowling as they pass the property. And all the neighborhood children would make up stories about me, to share with one another in their treehouses at night. I heard she turns kids into mice to feed all her cats! - I heard she rides a broom when the moon is full, and her eyes glow! - I heard if you look her in the eye, she can turn you into a cat in just one blink. That’s where all those cats came from. All those kids who ‘moved away.’ Or so we thought. They’d think of me when a branch snapped in the dark, wind rustled their drapes, or when cats screech and fight beneath the lamplights. They’d stay far, far, from my house on Halloween, but dare one another to go knock on The Witch of [Whatever] Street’s door, nonetheless.
(In truth I’d just be an eccentric mean old cat lady, of course)
Adult me:
I’ve gotten that witchy recluse part down, at least.