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WE'RE back! And man, what a holiday it's been.

For three weeks I was able to pretend I was a regular person, able to see my family and friends whenever I wanted to.

More importantly, I got to bum around and do absolutely nothing!

As I lay bronzing on the beach ? among some really fake-tan-orange people ? I got to thinking about a career change.

"What if I became a surfer?" I thought. I would be the ultimate bum; the best "career" ever.

I'd get to sleep until midday, wipe the gunk out of my eyes, then head off to the beach and ride some waves all afternoon. I could go pro, and like, tour around the world, dude.

During winter, I would just hibernate, then wake up when the weather is more conducive to my trade.

As is the case with all professions though, it too has its hazards. For one, I don't really fancy becoming a shark's entree. And I'm as unbalanced as the SABC board. So while I love the ocean, no, perhaps surfing is not for me.

I discussed this topic a bit more with myself, before realising another good pretend-job is being a personal shopper. I'd get paid to spend other people's money.

But on the downside, I would have to have my brain cells surgically removed, until I am left with two.

My conversations would revolve around sales and the latest Louis-can't-afford-to-breathe-our-air-Vutton creation. My friends and I would all have that ridiculous fake-tan-orange colour, and not know there is life beyond the Atlantic Seaboard.

While this could work, I like being able to read books with no pictures. Nope, this job simply won't do.

Wait, I've got it! I'll overthrow JZ and become the president of the ANC! It has all the plus points of the previously stated jobs, without any kind of down side.

I get to spend other people's money ? but on myself, family, friends... and maybe I'd buy a few zoo animals too.

I don't need to be intelligent: it would seem all I need is a primary school qualification and a catchy struggle theme song. I only need to make appearances once in a while, where all my puppeteers will tell me what to say.

The best perk of this job is I am untouchable. Whoever dares challenge that fact will be fired or drawn into elaborate schemes of destruction.

At this point of the heated debate with myself, my phone rings and I come crashing down to earth. There's been a murder. Instinct makes me jump up and I reach for my keys to rush out to the scene... Then I remember I'm on holiday.

I suddenly realise I'm not about to quit my day job any time soon.

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