Job Satisfaction: A Myth

By the powers of divine providence and, strangely, my previously-believed-useless film degree, I have landed a temp job on a film set. It's thrilling. This is not because the film is a thriller. In fact, it is a painfully dull horror film. (Which is really quite sad. We could all save a lot of money and just film my grandmother waking and I'm sure people would get their fright's worth out of that.) But because I have never been on a film set before and I am utterly shocked if not appalled as to how fantastic the world of Hollywood screen magic is, I've learned the following invaluable life lessons already and would feel very remise as a humanitarian if I did not share them with you now:

1. Gluing your ears to your head does make you look more attractive. This may seem crazy but, having seen the before and after result, I have to say some non-invasive plastic surgery with adhesive glue is the way of the future
2. Always pretend you are related to some one who has made it big. People are related to Al Pacino. I'm not sure how, but the entire camera crew have all secretly confessed to me that they are some how distantly related to our favorite Heat actor.
3. Yell at someone on the first day, then every thinks you're scary
4. In front of the camera is not the only place the action is going on. Be your own star in your own movie entitled something like "Getting the Coffee, While Trying to Look Like Your Trying Not to Cry" (it's a long-winded title, I know, but it's gonna be a hit).

These are just a few of the life lessons I am sure to learn before the film wraps next week and I am re-doomed to the world of the unemployed. But for now, it is simply nice to have a job. And a boss, strangely. Not having someone to hate has been a real downer in my life. Inanimate objects such as my toaster have become villains in my daily saga to entertain myself. It is hard to feel good about yourself when you have anthropomorphized assorted household tools. My blender is a moody bitch and my stove is going through menopause, not to mention my shower, who is one messy breakup away from trying to jackknife into the Hudson. It's better having a boss, even one who is an evil woman. I feel much more human hating humans than items from a Sears catalog.

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Richard N. likely does not approve of the title of this column. He wanted it to read "Lolocaust Diaries" but Xen's typo made it much funnier. He will continue to write about the sadness of life, whether his or those found on YouTube.
If you want it, then you better put a ring on it.