“Hello, hello, hello. Yes, yes, everyone, please, please. Oh you are too gracious, thank you for coming out tonight, please take a seat”

*Applause fades and a spotlight beams onto WILB on stage*

“Well here I am, and once again: I’m sorry I’ve been away. You know time really gets away from you when you’re living in a dystopia. One day you’re pouring through thousands of tweets trying to decipher the meaning of covfefe; the next you’re fighting back the urge to seriously fuck up your life because the threat of nuclear annihilation is too real and ever present. But then again, as a college student you will do and wish for just about anything to avoid finals.

“But, that’s where all my time is dedicated to: college. That booze soaked train, smelling of vomit, b-o, fear, and the occasional Taco Bell quesadilla. The train also only moves in one direction and to one destination: Anxietyville.

‘It’s the best time of your life though!’ Says every 40-50 year old man that hates their wife and would do anything to get their shit-head kid out of their house.

‘Timmy! Stop smoking weed in the basement, goddamnit.

‘But dad, you said it was okay’

‘No, I said it was okay only if you invited me and told mom it was her asshole boyfriend that was selling you this week ass grass. Did I ever tell you about the grass we smoked back when I was in college? Hot damn, what a great time’

Sorry for the tangent and back to our regularly scheduled program: In all honesty though, the past half year has been completely bonkers.

In January/late December, I arrived back into the United States by way of France and found it to be operating under the supervision of a 70 year-old infant and his band of ne’er-do-wells.

If that wasn’t enough torture, I found out that my past self signed my present self up for 4 8:30 AM classes (lots of numbers and word play but stay focused folks–it gets crazier). Needless to say that I was tired and ready for a nap everyday after noon.

But that’s what I’ve been up to, that and-

*A loud beeping sound begins to emanate from the gallery, getting louder and louder with each passing second*

Ladies and Gentlemen I thought we made it perfectly clear that no cell phones were allowed during the performance. Please shut-

*The WILB is cut off mid sentence by the piercing noise and the state and red drape backdrop disappear*

The same WILB wakes up in bed and rolls over to shut off the alarm clock. WILB sits up in bed and slumps over putting face in hand–wishing to go back to sleep, even for a moment.

The red numbers on the alarm clock cut through the darkness and declare: 6:00 AM.

Getting up from the bed reluctantly, WILB dresses and mumbles: “ugh time for work”