I went to see Morning Glory this weekend, which I actually really liked, despite the fact that their show was called Daybreakers and no surly fedora wearing vampires were involved, unless you are blind and confused and count Harrison Ford. I was bopping along thinking, ‘wow, Rachel McAdams is really good at her job, Go Rachel McAdams! Go! I forgive you for the Notebook! I forgive you!” And then, I guess because she was good at her job vampire Harrison Ford decided he needed to give her a little talk. You know how that talk goes. It goes like this:

Kid, you love your job. You’d sleep at the office if you could. Let me tell you how it all turns out. This is how it all turns out. You end up with nothing. You end up all alone. I don’t see my grand-kid.  

Of course he gives this talk to Rachel McAdams and not Jeff Goldblum (you know how loving his job works out for him? He gets to have consequence free affairs and jog a lot). Fuck that noise. It is AWESOME if you love your job so much you want to sleep at your office. You know what the common factor of most happy people is? They love their jobs. Did I make up that statistic? Yes, I did. But why not? You should love your job. You spend at least 8 hours a day doing it. Let’s play a game. I’m going to name some people, you tell me their romantic relationships:

Dorothy Parker

Diana Vreeland

Edith Wharton

Walter Winchell

In conclusion, those are the only historical people I feel I have a close personal friendship with. Can you name any of their romantic statuses? I can. (DP hearts Robert Benchley 4ever). But most people probably can’t. Did they end up with nothing? No. They ended up leaving fantastic legacies in their wake, and they’re inspirations forever. Their romantic relationships aren’t all that important.  

To hell with “you end up with nothing.” How about about “you’ll end up immortal! Like me, vampire Harrison Ford!” I think that should be the new speech.

Now. What job is going to make you want to sleep in your office? I hope it’s the current one. My personal back-up plan was always being the person who drives around in the golf cart collecting the Disney Princesses who collapse from heatstroke. Dibs on that.