The job itself, I presume, will be in the field of medical administration. Aside from the potentially awful commute, it pays well, the benefits are obvious, the hours are human, the field is bustling, there's plenty of room to advance, and I don't have to think about it in my off hours. So... yay me.
Except I've been getting this weird feeling lately. While I will most certainly take the job should it be offered for no other reason than I have no choice, I just can't bring myself to be excited about it.
While I'll be the first to say it sucks not getting paid for the work you do, that's not necessarily where the rewards come from. For the last ten months I've been expending all of my hours following my passions. There's been an intense dedication and resolve toward the things I really want to do that's never gotten the chance to exist before, and I've made such immense amounts of progress in certain areas that I shudder to think where they'd be had I continued on my previous course. It just feels like I'm doing the right thing. It feels like I have purpose, and I really don't want to slow down.
Sure, the chances of success are slimmer than the Olsen twins in a vice, and the prospect of making serious money again does carry with it its own sense of liberation, but I don't equate success simply by how much money you make. Capitalism and our blind consumerist society tell you that, which is not necessarily a belief I subscribe to.
Though my situation has technically grown more dire in recent months, I find I've really enjoyed the creative freedom of waking up and knowing that I don't have to wait to pursue the things that matter to me. I really hate waiting, and I literally have no more time TO wait. If things are going to break for me, they are going to have to break soon, and subtracting forty hours out of my weeks can only stall progression.
This would all be moot if I could get a low level job in administration or freelance production in my chosen field, nothing special. These are jobs which I apply to with the frequency of clouds in London, so I could actually get paid for the things I want to do, but, ya know, economy.
So once again, for better or worse, I'm stuck in a field I don't want to be in just to make ends meet, doomed to waste entire days doing menial work that I have no personal stake in whatsoever. Watching helplessly as the world passes me by in a slow burn of anxiety and self-loathing.
I need this job, but I don't want to go back.
Does that make me lazy?