Some Perspective

Five months after publication, I finally got my hands on the fall issue of blu, the luxury lifestyle magazine I used to work for in Tampa. Never one to do only one thing at a time, I was surfing the Internet while thumbing through the magazine's thick, glossy pages.

I had just come across a great ESL posting on how to teach unruly Korean kindergartners "Old MacDonald had a Farm" when I looked back at the magazine. I was at the society pages.

Pictures of Tampa Bay socialites in evening gowns, NFL players in swim trunks and DJs spinning records on rooftop terraces--a visual reminder of the life I used to lead.

I would complain about having to get dressed up on a Tuesday night to meet my

photographer at some gala. I got annoyed at the stream of emails from PR reps telling me about upcoming events I just had to attend. "I should really get paid for all this extra work I'm putting in," I'd complain to my editor. "This is not in my job description."

Yet, here I am, at 11 o'clock at night, printing out lyrics and trying to find images of donkeys and pigs.

To think I considered taking names while drinking champagne overtime.