In an orderly world you wake up to the sounds of where you live. I hear jets in the distance and if I'm lucky, I hear the coffee being brewed followed by that scent of good bean. Today I woke up in a different place because the whole world went booga-booga as per God right before sunrise. Turns out I didn't join the rapture crowd but instead found myself inside the joint where I earned my first real paycheck in my life. It was a dank, dingy converted house in a run down part of town and was filled with cartons of cigarettes, candy, toilet paper - you name it. I was a rising star there, so quick to learn the layout and the pace of manually filling orders by carrying the items up steps, down steps in the back warehouse - all without dropping anything ever. When I woke up there this morning, I had to come to some realization of why that place and it came to me that it was where I was humbled on a grand scale for the first time since graduating high school. The reality of working at a level that would make "Want fries with that?" kinda job seem upscale, humbled me into wanting a better life irrevocably and most assuredly. I didn't hang around there to soak in the visualization and I ran out the front door almost getting run over by a trolley car with Jimmy Clanton singing in the background before opening my eyes and seeing the ceiling fan rotating as if it were just a dream. Verily, verily I say unto you that being me is the best assignment anyone ever drew and no other outcome would improve my hairline nor jazz up my tango. Universe? meet Will, the man-boy with the Ernest Borgnine smile and the slippery shoulder joint from carrying too many cartons at one time as a lad. Yes, I'm made up of billion year old carbon and one soul shared with the one who joins me every morning in life. Sorry about that misunderstanding, Mr. Camping.