See, what you got there is a Creative. I'm so, so sorry.
People don't understand what it's like, how awful it is. I've got two of them in their twenties. It's dreadful. They appear to be perfectly happy wearing secondhand bustiers and eating a lot of home-made paella. I mean, they do have jobs - working in trendy bars, for Pete's sake - but even that's part-time and they only put real ambition and effort into making music and films and clothes. It's pretty bad. They have a website shop and everything. One of them's in a relationship with a guitarist, if you please. And she dropped out of university. Of course, they say they're happy - but what do they know?
All I can say to cheer you up is that my eldest child looked likely to go the same way, but got over it and now has a very stable and well-paid job, and a mortgage, and a child. So for a few lucky ones, it's not a life-altering condition.
Sadly though, many Creatives stay that way for life. Yes, it's hard on the parents, but - and I mean this - we manage to love the Creatives almost as much as we love the sensible one. I won't say it's easy, and of course they don't know the heartache they put you through, but once they've come out as Creative, you can come to terms with it, in time and with a lot of therapy.
Now that it's been mentioned, it occurs to me that MN ought to have a dedicated forum for the support of those of us who, tragically, have given birth to musicians, artists, writers, designers and, yes, even bloggers. I'll send something to MNHQ.
In the meantime, just remember that this is not your fault. You may have unwittingly passed on some sort of gene for imagination and creativity - I know I did, because I do have secret longings to make music and write poems - but they have chosen to indulge this unnatural propensity, despite everything you've done to discourage it by talking them into getting a degree in Economics.
Tell you what though - this wouldn't be happening if we still had National Service. A couple of years in uniform, being shouted at and painting coal - that'd soon knock this nonsense on the head.
Again, so sorry. I wouldn't wish Creative children on my worst enemy.