The irony of this is so sweet I should be laughing. But I'm tired and really, who enjoys the ironic things that happen to them? I got (almost) what I've been wishing for and more and more I think I don't want it.

It's simple. I need a job. I need to pay bills. Without these I'm a bum living off other people. It gets less simple from there, but the theme is repeated. I need some structure to my day because, lord knows, I can't build it myself. I need something that enforces discipline because I've burned through any native discipline.

But I'm having to realize that I don't really like the idea of going back the office. I don't want to give up 40 hours per week to someone else's Big Idea and hope that in the time left over I'll have energy left to realize my own. When the people I admire have made realizations like this they seem to have jumped to them without sitting and pondering it all out. But I'm not good at snap decisions. Or at least, when I make them I still take a good long while to review them before accepting I've made my decision.

I was given a task, a report to write, as part of a job application. From what I've heard it's the finalist round for the job, I'm competing against one, maybe two other people. I don't think I've ever made it to the finalist round in the past couple of years of job searching. So the first irony is that this happens for a job I'm not entirely qualified for. This isn't a copywriting/editing gig, it has more to do with online marketing. I really have no idea why they're not looking for someone with a MBA and experience directing marketing campaigns. Though I'm pretty sure this has to do with my recruiter(s) getting very excited at the words "marketing campaigns" on my resume and ignoring words like "wrote." I present myself as a writer because the verb for the job I wish I could do is write. I don't present myself as marketer, analyst, or director because those aren't things I've done or particularly want to get into.

But a job's a job, right? As long as I get paid what difference does it make? To me, a huge difference. It's not simple. Nothing ever is, frankly. And it bugs me to try to simplify how I think about anything from "is a part of my life" to is/is not. Yet, still, in this situation it might help, that is it might be best, to dive in and try not to think about it. Close my eyes and think of England, and all that. I have to pay my fucking bills. I have to be an adult.

The stress is on now because of the report. Because it looks like this is the sort of thing I'll be doing going forward in the job - assuming I get it. Only this is a removed, relaxed approach. Usually I'd be sending daily comments on the numbers that come in, working with a team to direct campaigns, assessing and reacting to daily analysis, etc. Some writing, but all just in communication back and forth within the marketing team. Nothing creative, in an advertising sense. Nothing I ever intended to do when I daydreamed about what I'd be when I grew up.

At base I don't want to do the report. I know to some degree this means I don't want to do that job. But I told myself that would take any job. I begged the universe for any job. I'd clean puke in a fast food restaurant. I'd help abusive customers in a store for minimum wage. But I'm resisting writing a marketing report. Ok. It's work I won't be paid for (directly). Ok, I've never written one before (step one, look up marketing reports). Ok, it's work and this is the weekend and there's a huge list of other things I'd rather do. All of this resisting comes up against the intense need to earn an income.

And the jobs I'm qualified for are precious few and they have no interest in me.

Plenty of people work at jobs that they don't particularly care for. Sometimes it feels like no one has a job they love and several even hate their jobs. But this is what it takes to meet our needs. Adults routinely have to do things they don't want to do. I shouldn't expect to be special.

I said I'd do it. I was careful to smile over the phone and sound grateful in email. I can't back out now. So I have to commit.

The thought that I could throw this - write something less than what I'm capable of - has crossed my mind. But something curdles inside me when I consider it directly. No. I can't fuck around with this. Or anything. I can't allow myself to do subpar work on any task.

Philosophically, it's almost disturbing to me that I could do the job. The task of marketing is to convince regular people that what they need is the product being marketed. I've never liked being the middle man's middle man. But I've never done anything to get out of it. I don't make the product I'm trying to sell. In fact, in this case, the product isn't even that exciting to me. It certainly isn't anything anyone needs. But some people will want it, and the task is both to find them and to tempt other folks into becoming these people.

Consumerism. It's irony that seems to define my life. I don't like it very much. But I don't put much effort into avoiding it or in not making my living off its machinery.

Oh God i don't want to write this report.