Your love of literature leads you nowhere. Somehow Beowulf provides less preparation for the outside world than you counted on and the market for essay writing is at a one hundred year low.
You anxiously search job postings and after three months luck out and find an unpaid internship at the Barnes and Noble. Though the internship doesn't turn into a real career, it becomes a great lead to another unpaid internship that also ends without a job.
Dejected and broke, you move back home and slip into a classic quarter-life crisis. Your weekends are spent at a local diner drinking light beer with people you didn't really like in high school. You consider joining a fantasy football league. Then it hits you. Why don't you work at Bill's Bar and Grill? It'd cover the bills and provide you with so much writing material. It would be, you convince yourself, a good detour adventure! You walk into the restaurant with it all planned out. Six months serving, and you'll have enough to move to New York.
All of a sudden five years have passed, and you're still serving at the same place. You're still drinking beer with the same people. You still really want to join the fantasy league. All the cool people you thought you'd meet are mostly lame and lonely, and you aren't much different.
it's hard to shake the feeling that I've always got five stars in this Grand Theft Auto known as life.
Now, inexplicably, season three is looming over us like some sort of dome. Season one's plot asked whether or not the town could get out from under the dome. Apparently the answer was "no". Season two asked "I guess we're really stuck, huh?" and the answer was "yup".
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