Virtual Reality
When asked to choose between the nuclear power plant, a school, a kitchen and a TV studio, I was forced to be pretty honest with myself. Sure, I'd like to pretend that I know enough about science to work in a nuclear plant (only because it would be an affirmation of my intelligence, not because I'd want to grow a third arm) or that I'm domestically talented enough to spend hours in the kitchen, I think we all know that's not the case. At my most self-aware, I realize that I'm much more likely to be found picking up some Cool Ranch Doritos, a big gulp of Diet Coke and sour Skittles down at the BP station rather than leading a group of impressionable, fresh-faced third graders in an elementary school class room or working behind heavy, expensive, difficult-to-maneuver equipment on a set.
So, my animated self is at the Kwik-E-Mart - just as she should be.
(On another note, I realize that my Simpson is very thin and svelte and in heels. This not-being-in-denial-about-oneself thing doesn't need to happen all at once. Baby steps. Baby steps.)
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