I found out today that I will never be a spy or any other kind of supercool agent; for all kinds of reasons, one of them being that I can't reanimate myself after being poisoned (although it's not like a had the chance to try) OR shoot a mosquito from five miles away with only a pen and a pebble as tools.
I was quite shocked and rather disappointed. This is not something I usually tell people, but I always saw my future as a mix between a more dramatic episode of Alias and Commander in Chief (yes, I do believe I would also be an excellent President, thank you very much). I saw myself juggling a brilliant political career and my romantic life while being active as a field agent for a super-secret but thouroughly virtuous organization and saving the world from some unknown crisis every once in a while.
Now that dream's gone poof. All that's left is being a surgeon, writing the next Moby Dick, winning the Acadamy Award for Best Everything, fighting evil aliens in another galaxy, fighting evil monsters in another dimension, traveling in time to meet awesome people and designing the shoes for every occasion.
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