I have a new job.
When people ask me what I do, I tell him, "I'm a specter into other people's lives...kind of like Jennifer Love Hewitt on The Ghost Whisperer."
"I'll be home for Christmas when they pay for some goddamn vacay time," I say, rather blase.
My first job assignment is travelling back into the 1960s and reclaiming the fists of justice for a 5-year-old who was urinated upon by his physical education teacher.
"Honey, what he did to you was wrong. And I'm going to right that wrong."
I can't recall what I did to exact justice. It probably involved a golden shower of some sort.