Recently, I received a letter. When I called the State Department of Mysteries in response to the letter, the state employee asked me, “What color is the letter?” This is like dinner at Applebees. Every time I ordered a salad there, I ended up with a hair in my salad and a waitress who’s been trained to ask, “What color is it?” (I stopped that nonsense years ago.) So when the DOM employee learned my letter was white, she said, “Good thing it wasn’t yellow,” followed by similar responses to my specific questions. And the magic continues…

I have been “selected to participate in a required program.” Just call me Harry Potter for I am the chosen ONE.  (Side note: To me, this sounds on par with a forced lottery win, or, decapitation role play.) Benefits of said required program include “unlimited access to computers, office equipment (!), Internet access and the expertise” (of career center employees). Wow. I’m getting excited just thinking about it. And I must gather a few things to take on this adventure, which starts this week and continues through next week (my birthday week). They didn’t list “unlimited access to a toilet” so I hope they have one, since these are day-long workshops.

The “white letter” (and sundry follow-up notices and voicemails) tell me I need to bring the following required items with me: 1) Star Trek Log, 2) Elder Wand, 3) straight face when I am serenaded by Roy Orbison-superfan (again), 4) a jar of paste to eat while I learn how to write an “effective resume,” 5) my Girls Scouts cantene–empty, since they might not have a bathrooom with unlimited access. I should also probably bring a Sit-Upon while I’m at it. Gramma taught me to be prepared at long town meetings and how to stuff newspaper into a trash bag so I don’t get my butt wet sitting on moss, or questionable office chairs with unlimited access. I have a sneaky feeling I wasn’t the only chosen one.