Earlier last month, I visited my childhood best friend at the bar where she works part-time. We used to be a couple of nerds with big eyebrows in middle school, but now she’s like this exotic mega-babe who can’t step out of her apartment without dudes throwing themselves at her.

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I have jury duty this week, which, it turns out, is pretty similar to being a temp worker at a data entry job. Both situations involve getting together large pools of randos from all different wakes of life and asking us to use our nuanced qualification of not yet having died in order to take a look at equally rando problems and make very basic decisions. In both situations, there is great beauty in the system’s reliance upon everyday people, and in both situations, one is forced to wonder why humans are entrusted with anything ever.

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TFW when you finally get back into writing on the regs, and you’ve got a pretty good groove going with your new blog, but then you hang out with an old friend and get frustrated by her regaling you with stories about the never ending cha-cha line of handsome successful men throwing themselves at her feet and offering to hara-kiri themselves for her honor and beauty,

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