how I manage to embarrass myself before seven am

Last night one of the girls I babysit (a lot of people have been asking if it's cool or not cool for 24-year-old college graduates to babysit so I'll clear this up right now: it's very cool.) asked if I would read her a bedtime story. Since I love reading and since I was pretty exhausted from an hour pretending to be a money-laundering vegetarian FBI agent who worked at a five-star restaurant, I said I would read any book she wanted.

So she she pulled out the big guns and grabbed High School Musical: Our Yearbook!. Usually when asked to read a book this terrible to a child, I'll make up my own improved story that loosely follows the pictures. But there was something so train-wreck fascinating about a multiple-chapter book that followed a Disney movie so religiously that I read every single word to her. With voices. This isn't the embarrassing part yet.


This is not the cover but it looks just as bad.

Then last night I dreamed the entire plot of High School Musical: Our Yearbook!. For those of you who haven't read the fabulous book or seen the movie it's supposedly based on, Troy (played by Zack Efron) couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to try out for the musical, because theater rehearsal would really cramp his style when he should be practicing basketball (Go Wildcats!) and it would really be such a devastating loss to the world of theater and the world of sports if he quit either, and if you're wondering if I'm at the embarrassing part yet, I'm not.

When my alarm went off, I HIT SNOOZE just so I could go back to sleep and see if Troy would follow his heart and try out for the musical.

And that's how you embarrass yourself before seven am.