I got a really fantastic job, finally. I was hired by a fair sized newspaper to review films and concerts. I’ve long thought I’d be great at this. And by long, I mean “since I saw Ben Lyons on tv and realized how much more competent I am than he is.” It’s kind of a dream job, really, to go to concerts and movies and then write about it and to get paid for doing so.

I had my first assignment: to review Eclipse. I wasn’t super excited about it, but whatever. It’s still a great job, this reviewing movies thing. The showing was, inexplicably, in my high school’s gym. You’d think a major publication would’ve sent me somewhere classier or even had someone review the movie before it came out. But I wasn’t paying, so I didn’t mind that much. The gym was packed. Reserved seating had me sitting next to my middle school frenemy, which was both unlikely and unwelcome. But we’re adults. We can be civil. No big deal.

Then I looked down and realized that I was naked and that, yeah, probably my sweet new job was a dream. Sure enough: the alarm went off, and today I’m still a church secretary. Dang.

Today I spent two hours cutting out construction paper flowers and leaves for a bulletin board.

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