What do you wanna be when you grow up?

I wanna be, a librarian. The first question you'll ask is why? Not because it's a bad profession but because it's not exactly dripping with cash flow. But I'm young, so you indulge my blissful ignorance leaning more towards curiosity for curiosity's sake.
Ofcourse your head is filled with various assumptions at this point. Perhaps I prefer peace and quiet to the nerve wrenching situations in an OR.
Perhaps I like books more than I like people. That wouldn't make sense because books are largely about them anyway but I guess you can love a creation without loving the creator. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.
Assumptions aside I do love books. Frankly, I adore them. Enough to stake my livelihood on the preservation of man's greatest works, though they be few.
Men die just as leaves fall and all I can do is preserve the view. The moment. Brains in jars for the scientist and minds in books for me.
The akward librarian who probably understands certain men more than their loved ones did.
I mingle with their souls each day. Every page is a rush of emotion they probably didn't get to share with someone, but I see it.
I see them. The Unseen. The Unread, in this hall of brilliant and sometimes mediocre minds. Some much less than that but they all matter nonetheless. Books are after all, the children of the soul and anything fashioned after this complexity is worthy of utmost care and respect.
I will inevitably steward these wayward children and find them a home.
That, is what a librarian is to me. The keeper of all wonder. The master of all mystery. The revealer of secrets. The James Bond of the literary world if you will.