Be sure to write your social security number on your body with indelible ink.

Once given in to the idea of a new job possibility, the first thing in my head was that it would make a good addition to my obituary. It’s not as morbid a thought as it sounds. More like another thing to celebrate. I know it’s not because of the start of autumn. Soon, the air will turn colder, and it will trigger that Pavlovian response to get ready for a new school year. No matter that it’s been fifteen years, the chill and exhaust and smell of the honey roast nut carts that seemed to be everywhere when I first came here all bring me back to a time when things were all up in the air; the girl, the band, the career, the girl. I never want to be in a band, I never asked for this career, the girl got away, but I’m so much better now, and I can only look back at that kid and cringe. Somewhere there’s another me who stayed in the band, went for the solid future, and didn’t let the girl get away. Somewhere there’s another me who wrecked the music world, mugged your mom for drug money, and made the girl go away. Right here, there’s a kid who’s okay with where it all brought him, but who knows he has a lot of work to do, and a lot to learn. School is now in session.