I need to go to the grocery store to buy some cereal and orange juice. I need to tie up some papers for recycling. And I have an article to write. That’s my to-do list in real life.

In Fantasy Life, the most curiously titled video game I’ve played this year, I need to pick up three bottles of extra creamy milk for a character named Llaeth and grab some boiled vegetables for another named Celine. Someone asked me to sew a beret, but I’m a carpenter. And I’m busy. I’ll get a promotion if I make a bed, a couch and a wardrobe.

That’s some fantasy life I’m having.

The fantasy that the game’s title alludes to is probably the genre kind about knights, dragons and wizards. The world is imperiled in this game. There are evil forces, a princess and so on. But the other fantasy here is perversely quotidian: It’s about getting a job, one of 12 available, from cook to alchemist to tailor to mercenary. It’s also about doing chores (up to 30 at a time) and getting stuff for the people you meet.

Those who don’t play video games might be surprised by how common the assigned tedium of Fantasy Life is across the medium. They might be shocked at how often games slip from feeling fun to feeling like work. Fantasy Life is explicit about it, but modern video games are full of menial tasks. They’re programmed to present virtual to-do lists. Games as cinema? Games as art? Consider games as a second job — one you pay for.