A Real Job
I sometimes think that what I'd really like is a proper job. Not instead of writing, she adds hastily, but as a supplement -- an occasional job, a day or two a week perhaps, no more. My ideal job would be dull and repetitive, mechanical, fiddly, the kind of work that other people find impossibly boring.
When I worked at the record company, my favourite tasks were things like order entry, or alphabetising the CD library, or proof-reading the indent catalogue. Nothing made me happier than the arrival of a fat parcel of orders to be keyed from the affiliated video company, which meant I could sit quietly in a corner, not talking to anyone, working my way steadily through the pile. A nice defined job, poorly paid and tedious, that's my dream... If anyone happens to know of a job like that, I'm available!