Why I'm Interviewing for a Job I Don't Want
A Funeral for Content Manager Me
TL;DR: I interviewed for a job doing work a chatbot could do, fully planning to use it as closure before moving on. Then the recruitment call was actually interesting. The role was more senior than expected. I got intrigued despite myself. Now I’m sitting here wondering: was that genuine interest, or just ego and FOMO? This is the story of trying to close a chapter and accidentally opening it wider.
Before the Call: The Plan
Friday, Dec 12th. I was very clear about what this interview was for.
JPMorgan Chase. Content Producer role.
Upload content into a CMS (content management system)
Maintain taxonomy
Work with localization teams
Five days a week in the office (ouch!)
I didn’t want this job. I wasn’t taking this job. But I was doing the interview anyway – one last performance of “Responsible Adult Considers Conventional Employment” before fully committing to my investor/writer thing.
Since returning from a year of travel in June, I’ve been “between opportunities” (unemployed but with savings). The German government provides 2k € monthly while I “look for work” (manage a portfolio and write articles that 12 people actually read – hi mum! 👋).
I’d been applying to jobs half-heartedly – enough to satisfy the unemployment agency, not enough to actually land anything. (though if my Berater is reading this, I’m still totally committed to reintegrating into the labor market. Grüße gehen raus!)
When I submitted the JPMC application, I was sitting in a café in Leipzig leafing through Anthropic’s list of use cases. I saw the listing, thought “eh, why not,” and spent fifteen minutes pondering my “passion for content excellence” and “enthusiasm for financial services.”
Then I went back to reading about data centers in space. Gotta stay vigilant and stress-test your terrestrial thesis after all.
Even if I wanted back into content, the role seemed already obsolete. Content teams are shrinking from 8 people to 1-2 AI-assisted strategists who check high-visibility stuff for accuracy and add “the human touch.” Maybe I could be one of those survivors: the elite few with enough taste and judgment to justify their salary.
But then what? Spending 40 hours a week proving my value and waiting for the next round of “efficiency improvements” in 3-5 years. Building someone else’s asset instead of my own.
Plus, let’s be honest about what that job actually looks like: when the LLM hits its token limit at 2pm, that’s it, that’s your workday.
You sit there refreshing the page, waiting for your AI coworker to clock back in. Thrilling stuff.
The plan was simple: do the call, confirm I don’t want that world anymore, write about it, move on. Closure as performance art.
That’s not what happened.
The Interview: When the Script Flips
The recruiter was nice. Too nice. And the role wasn’t what I expected.
Turns out it’s not an entry-level CMS monkey position. It’s senior associate –helping build European banking expansion from the ground up. A small team of 5 people. “Like a startup within a huge multinational,” he said.
No defined salary bands. Most applicants asking for 60-65k. I submitted 70-75k, but suddenly that felt conservative. When he asked if that was still my range, I pivoted: “When I applied, I gave a conservative range based on my previous role. With more clarity on the scope, I’d expect something in the mid to high 80s depending on level.”
He didn’t flinch.
I also made it clear I’m not in a rush to find a job – only selectively applying for things I find interesting. The finance bro metamorphosis angle played well. And I said I’d only be interested if it’s a strategic, language-owner type position, not CMS grunt work.
“Do you have an AI strategy? Because at this point, the only viable position in content is the AI-assisted specialist role.”
He assured me they do. Enterprise AI tools, but they value the human touch for quality and compliance (they’re a bank… of course they do).
The call ended. I said thanks. We’ll see about next steps.
And then I sat there, staring at my screen, thinking: “Wait... was that actually interesting?”
After the Call: What Just Happened?
I wasn’t expecting to leave that call feeling energized. Not because I suddenly want to be a Content Producer. But because:
The framing shifted. “Senior associate building JPM’s European expansion” sounds way better than “upload content to AEM.”
Ego activated. Most people asking for 60-65k, I casually suggested mid 80s, and he didn’t push back.
FOMO crept in. What if this is actually one of those rare good opportunities and I’m being too ideological?
I even messaged one employee on LinkedIn –someone I know from a previous company– to ask about the vibe.
Then I caught myself. What am I doing? Ten minutes ago I was writing a eulogy. Now I'm doing math on whether 80k for 2 years would meaningfully accelerate my financial independence timeline. The corpse just winked at me. This is extremely unsettling.
The Real Question
The energy I felt after that call wasn’t “I want this job.” It was the thrill of the game – the negotiation, the positioning, the “could I actually pull this off?”
But that’s not the same as actually wanting to spend 40 hours a week chained to a desk.
Imagine it’s April 2026.
I’ve been at JPMC for 4 months. I’m making 80k. The work is... fine. Some strategic stuff, some execution work. Colleagues are decent. I’m in the office 5 days a week.
My portfolio has grown 15% (could’ve been 25% with active management, but I was busy). My Substack has 150 subscribers (could’ve been 500+ with consistent focus, but I was tired after work).
How do I feel in that scenario?
If the answer is “honestly fine – I’m building capital and credentials,” maybe I should pursue this. If the answer is “fuck, I wasted a year,” I should walk away now.
The Hedging Trap
The anxiety I feel right now isn’t coming from the job offer. It’s coming from the realization that I haven’t actually committed to either path.
Before the call, I thought the “investor/writer” identity was solid. This interview was just a funeral rite – closure before moving on. But the call revealed something uncomfortable: I’m still hedging.
Part of me still wants external validation. Part of me still gets a dopamine hit from a recruiter thinking I’m “Senior Associate” material.
But “good opportunity” and “right for me” aren’t the same thing.
The interview was supposed to be closure. Instead, it proved that I’m still looking for permission from the conventional world to leave it behind. I thought I was attending a funeral. Turns out, I was trying to perform a resurrection. I was poking the corpse of my corporate career to see if it would twitch.
The real test isn’t whether I take this job. It’s whether I can commit to a path –any path–without keeping one foot in the door of the other.
In between is the worst place to be.
So, I decided to stop guessing. I messaged the trojan horse insider I know at the company. I asked for the unvarnished truth about the “startup vibe” and the 5-day office requirement.
Epilogue (Dec 16th)
The insider confirmed what I suspected. Very corporate. Five days in-office. Non-negotiable.
“You have to actually want it,” she said.
Moments later, the recruiter invited me to round 2.
And I realized: I don’t want it. Not enough. Not for what it costs.
The funeral proceeds as planned. RIP Content Manager Me. 🪦
P.S. If you want to follow along as I either commit to something or slowly unravel into unemployable chaos, consider subscribing.
Good characterization of the carrots, but maybe no so good unraveling of the effects caused by the sticks? Hmmm, what a conundrum you're facing... But do keep us posted!!