Short reviews of pretty much whatever. Finally, you can discover if Frosted Flakes Gold has more social worth than Illmatic or Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare.
I'd sure like to eat it now, but there's no telling when a student is going to show up for his or her scheduled conference, and if I'm eating it when a student comes to my office then I'll show weakness by proving that I, like all humans, must eat. Also, it's hard to pick a reasonable color for turkey in MSPaint.
If somebody asks you what you do for a living and your response includes any of the following terms--access, solutions, systems (or systems management), data services, development, systems integration, business processes, expeditionary technology solutions, usability research, information assurance and network securities--there's a greater than zero chance the person you're speaking to has zoned out. Whereas miners have to fear a life cut short by black lung or explosions, your biggest on-the-job threat are Sonic breakfast burritos and the Awesome Blossom you have for lunch. Hey, pal. It could be worse. You could work in the Quarternary Sector, which often feels like winning first-place in a shit eating competition. 
Copy editing for money is good, because you get money, but it's also bad, because if your customer knows a copy editor is going to clean up her mess, she'll leave a whole bunch of mangled citations and misspelled words with the expectation that the copy editor will fix them. I used to wash dishes in this shitty restaurant, and it was kind of the same deal--cooks would drop salmon fillets and pork chops on the floor and just kind of kick them under the counter because they knew some minimum wage-making sucka (i.e. me) would end up getting down on his hands and knees and picking them up. Eventually, a stack of pans fell on my head and cut my dishwater-soaked hand open and I bled all over the floor so I quit, but not before I had to walk by the lineup of people waiting to get into the Rockin' Rodeo like 50 times in a dirty kitchen apron carrying a bunch of gross, leaking garbage bags. Hey, ladies.
Working at all is bad enough, but sometimes when you work, you have to work overtime. I can't tell you exactly what I'm working on (and trust me, you wouldn't care anyways), but suffice to say that it's more than a little boring, and it appears that a great deal of my work is for nothing. Don't get me wrong, I love my paycheck. And I can totally get behind working overtime if you're compensated for it (hint: I'm not), or it indicates you're doing a good job (hint: nobody cares). But it also leaves you absolutely no time to write reviews/write non-fiction books with Glenn/play Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne...which is totally unacceptable.
In summertime, almost all of the advantages of wearing a suit are offset by the fact that it is no fun to wear a jacket when it is balls hot outside and you have to walk around NYC in the damn sun and then risk passing out on a subway platform because you can't goddamn breath and you're sweating like a whore in church. Booo.Now that I'm a lawyer (more or less), I have to wear a suit to work every day. At first I was very resistant to this idea because I thought it would be uncomfortable and dyke-y looking (suit + short hair = dyke, or so my thinking went), but since I figured out how to femme it up (skirt + girly top + sexy high heels = femme) I love wearing suits. The best part is how other people react to the suit. I've noticed that people don't seem to question my motives or logic when I'm in a suit. It's amazing. So if you ever want to sneak into a courthouse or political fundraiser that you forgot to RSVP for, I'd recommend sporting one.
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