Reasons I love my job, Pt. 1 -or- Letters to Myself

What follows is the first part of a series of why my job is cool. This is less of an “In your face, my job is cooler than yours” than it is a way for me to remind myself how good I have it, and that I should quit whining and put on my big-boy pants. I am not in that state of whiney-hood right now, so consider this a shout out to myself in the future. In fact, I’ll form it as a letter.

Dear Future-Me;

So, you’re feeling sad, huh, chief? Got a case of the blues? A 24-pack of Sad Cola?

Aww.

Well, nut up, wuss bag.

Cragga-BALL SHOT

You know what just happened, here in the past? Well, of course you do, since you were there, but two very nice women just came in and gave you free tickets to a concert this weekend. Yeah. You remember. You also know whether or not you had a good time, as I’m sitting here in the past refreshing your memory. That doesn’t matter: what matters is that you just got FREE TICKETS to a CONCERT.

You remember the nice lady that brought them in, thanking you for writing such a lovely article about her son? Yeah. That was sincere, buck-o. So sincere, that they apparently came in more than once to try and find your sad kiester to thank you personally. She even wrote “VIP” on them.

STOP. REWIND.

Yeah. Check that out.

And this isn’t even the first time free tickets have happened. They happen all the time. You can look at your schedule, bust out your future calendar, full of holograms and jetpacks and all the other stuff you should have in the future, and look at all the dates in that calendar where you can pretty much count on having tickets to something awesome. AND, in lieu of that, you’ve got a Press Badge, which is just this side of a law-enforcement officer’s badge when it comes to getting in to places for free. Lemme lay some math on ya.

Getting into places free = Press Badge < Police Badge

… BUT!

Party still going on once you enter = Press Badge > Police badge.

It’s all “win” here, son.

Now, hitch up your training bra and stop acting like such a little girl. I can hear your lady-bits flapping in the breeze.

Love,

Past-You
January 27, 2011

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