If you’re looking for a success story — read no further.

Now that I’ve lost the attention of every student at the UR, I’ll proceed.

I was a star student. I had everything going for me: captain of the football team, valedictorian,you name it, I was it. After I graduated from high school, I majored in political science and completed graduate school at Harvard Law.

Every choice I made pointed toward greatness. Every blunt I denied and every beer I forwent was all in pursuit of eventual career success. It’s just not the same shotgunning a can of Polar Seltzer.

And then, finally, my dream job: a position at the FBI. It was all worth it, I thought. My first day on the job they burned off my fingerprints, handed me the keys to my Aston Martin, unveiled a whole room full of assault weapons, and introduced me to several gorgeous women…

Just kidding. They sat me down in a grey-walled cubicle, put a monitor in front of me, and explained my new job. Yep, I’m the FBI agent who watches you through your laptop camera.

I’m assigned a rotation of several hundred laptops. It’s the perfect job for anyone with a short attention span because it cycles through cameras fairly quickly. (I’m referring to you, folks in the younger generation who blame all your problems on ADHD.)

As for the things I see on the job, well, there are quite a few gold diggers and I’m not talking about beautiful women who are aspiring trophy wives. You also wouldn’t believe the maximum number of chins a human can have. (Hint: it’s over seven.)

Some days are more interesting than others. Just last week I watched someone eat five bags of Cheetos in a row. Puffy, not crunchy, of course — not everyone can be a savage.

I’m only allowed to come forward if I hear or see something from our “trigger manual.” Luckily, I didn’t major in the natural sciences, so I learned how to read in college — the manual is thick.

As it turns out, most Americans are pretty sensitive. Everything from “politics” to “religion” has an entry in the manual.

It’s important to follow the reporting guidelines, otherwise my supervisors get annoyed. It’s a slippery slope, though. Consider the TSA. Travelers are required to take their shoes off before going through airport security. What’s next? Our socks? Underwear? Will we just start going through naked? Same goes for my job. If you have to report every use of the word “gun,” where do you stop? Do you know how many Americans have the word “gun“ in their everyday lexicon?

I must say that I am a little concerned about the increased frequency of Skype calls between Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin. I’ve been debating about whether or not to report them. Unfortunately, due to the speedy rotation through the cameras, I only hear bits and pieces of their conversation. Last week’s snippets — “photo shoot,” “chest-day,” and “I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for you meddling kids!” — didn’t trip any “trigger” warnings.

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It’s been a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day. I hate everyone and everyone hates me. I crawl into bed at 8 p.m., face my pillow, and scream into the void.