"Add more Buddhists"

My eight days of vacation are drawing to a close. As it turned out, (1) I was unable to find a better portable keyboard for my Asus before I left, so typing long things has been frustratingly beset by typos; (2) it's been hard to use the Asus in Portland coffeeshops without an unending string of friendly Oregonians pulling up a seat next to me and wanting to chat at length about the notebook's unusual size and appearance (at first, cute; after the tenth, not so much), and (3) I felt I sort of needed a blog vacation, too. So I took one.

Portland has been fantastic -- much hiking, much roto-rootering of lungs, much plundering of "technical clothing" outlet stores (you might not need your pants to keep you alive on a shear rock face at -10 degrees. But isn't it nice to know they could?), and much catching up with old friends over excellent dinners. I'm sure I'll write more about it later. The thing is, though, after not having thought about work all week -- surprisingly easy, actually -- I'm flying back tomorrow, and suddenly realizing that I'm going to have to make some big decisions in short order.

Pick your ending, readers.

Right before I left, I was essentially offered Job A (forgive my necessary discretion and vagueness). I was also given strong encouragement to remain on the hook for Job B. I muttered something about imminent vacation, begged for more time, and fled.

Job A is outside the main building. It would continue my focus on East Asia/Pacific, which is an area I know (read: can find all the countries on a map much faster than your average layperson). As with my current job, however, the description of duties involves a lot of jargon that doesn't actually help me understand what I'd be doing. Whereas the cool kids in the main building tussle about missiles in the Middle East, a lot of what I'd be doing, I'm given to understand, would be reviewing DC-produced "cultural products" (read: propaganda -- not that there's anything wrong with that) and adding my sage advice from "the field" about how the message could be tweaked to be more sensitive and Asia-specific. A part of me dies a little to think that I wouldn't be running with the big dogs (I myself have on occasion referred to this particular building as the "pediatrics division" of my employer), but another, more pragmatic, part of me is quick to point out that I'd receive the same salary regardless -- and, indeed, if I'm not tethered to a Blackberry nor required to work late nor be on call, it's practically like getting a raise. Extra bonus: my prospective boss seems not only sane -- which, within this work context, would be pretty much a first for me -- but downright cool.

Job B is the aforementioned "women's whatever." I'd be speechwriting - and I love speechwriting -- as well as penning editorials for the foreign press. Yes, on women's issues. Tres perfect, non? Well, vielleicht pas. To start with, when I actually had my final (I hope) interview, which was held on-site, I was startled and dismayed to discover that the office seems to have been designed to be toothless (why, yes; I can be that naive; thanks for asking); housed in a depressingly decrepit space, without money, resources, or access. Second, in the increasingly likely event of a McCain victory, the job might well involve nothing more than my writing endless editorials about the virtues of abstinence, or how more "training and education" (of, curiously, the wrong parties) will erase the pay gap. In which case, let's face it: I might as well just go and shill for the cigarette companies. Third, not to dwell on the Byzantine intricacies of my workplace's dual human resources system, but just know that this office was set up in a highly unusual personnel configuration that not only further prevents it from being effective, but would also dramatically slow down the filling of this vacancy (and increase the chances of falling into an Iraq job).

On the other hand, in terms of ease of quitting and going into the private sector (which is my distant second choice after "quitting and having K support me while I write my novel"): Job A -- rather difficult (after all, if even I don't understand what I'd be doing...). Job B -- looks pretty nifty on a resume, especially for the types of jobs I might want to pursue.

What to do?

The voting lines are open.