I HAD A PRODUCTION EDITOR JOB THAT TURNED OUT O SO VERY DIFFERENT THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD

Arriving at work, I put down my bag, fire up my powerful dual-processing computer, with its 17-inch display, make myself a cup of strong black coffee, and survey my glorious workspace. My machine hums a throaty roar as its fan flips on and cools its churning innards. I’m not sure why it thinks this is necessary, as in the last two days I haven’t used it for anything more taxing than instant messenger.

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