My Perfect Job, Version 67.1

So, I thought I wanted to do something adventureous and world-spanning with my life, like working as a Foreign Service Officer. Then, today at the supermarket, I had an epiphany:
WHAT WAS I THINKING?!
I abhor change: I won't even try the store-brand breakfast cereal because I'm afraid it won't taste as good as Cheerios and I will have wasted $1.95 in a vain attempt to save 70¢.
And the whole moving thing? I'm not really a fan. How am I supposed to collect every cell-phone bill I've ever received if I have to cart filing cabinets around wherever I go?
I want to be an English professor, specializing in freshman composition courses. I want to park myself and my stuff in one gingerbready 1920s house gradually fixed up just the way I like it in one great neighborhood within an easy distance of one pretty university or college somewhere with a semi-tropical or Mediterranean climate and I want to get to know all my neighbors and I want my kids to grow up in the local public schools (unless they're supersmart and want to go Catholic, which I'd completely understand) and I want town traditions and weddings and funerals and stability.
I can always dream about Romania—it seems so much nicer when I don't have to pack.

Still more proof of Jasper Fforde's brilliance

From my experience of government departments, they couldn't order the right size of staples, let alone succeed in anything as bizarrely complex as a murder and then subsequent cover-up.
—DCI Jack Spratt, The Fourth Bear