Okay….I’m officially sick of being the only one of my friends without some cool new talent. It used to be me and Dan who were the normies. He works as a medical secretary, which isn’t boring but isn’t special either. And then we get together to watch the latest Gnat-Man flick because Boyd hadn’t seen it, and he says that he’s about to quit his job and make a living manufacturing robot animals. You know, really put that engineering degree to good use. So everyone is congratulating him, and I’m just sitting here, thinking…we had something, Dan. You with your office job, me as a therapist at the local hospital. You and me against the world. The interesting, unique, talented world. You DISGUST ME.

Well, he DID disgust me, until I decided that I, too, would become special. I know it’s trendy, but none of my friends are doing it and it’s readily available, so I’m taking a dry needling course in Sydney. Really, I’m not even sure what it involves; it was a snap-decision. I saw the email and I signed up because it sounded unique and interesting, two things that I am lacking. And then I’ll be that guy in my friend group learning to do a dry needling course. In your face, Clive. You can build all the furniture for orphans you like, but you’ll never be on my level, scrub. Okay, there is a small part of me that thinks dry needling sounds like a worthwhile career addition and that’s one of my motivations for doing it. But while I’m thinking that, I’ll also be feeling content that I’m no longer the most boring out of all my friends.

I also like the fact that I’m getting in early on this. I’ll be the only one for a while at least, and if everyone else jumps on the trigger point dry needling course bandwagon, I can still say it was my thing first. And I’ll be the best…because I was first. That’s how that works.

Oh, and also in your face Dan. Now who’s getting ditched? IT’S YOU.

-Oscar