Somewhere in the distant future, I wake up to the sound of the alarm clock. Twelve snooze button slaps later, I finally get my lazy self out of bed.

I don’t shower, because I make less than $495,000 a year. I don’t deserve to shower. I haven’t yet pulled myself up by my bootstraps. I didn’t go to MIT or Harvard and learn the type of math, science and logical skills that could cure cancer or create alternative energy that would get us off foreign oil, then take that intelligence over to Goldman Sachs to create 19-D models of stocks, bonds, loans and mortgages where I can financially screw over the middle class and make people who physically produce no product billions of dollars.

It’s my fault. Teachers and public sector workers – remember when they ruined our economy making $50,000 a year teaching our inattentive, bratty self-entitled children important skills and having the audacity to ask for any sort of health benefits? I remember my days at Ronald Reagan Elementary, and how we got Ms. Winters fired for making us do homework. Um, hello! This is America! We don’t do homework.

Mr. Heberle at Ronald Reagan High didn’t get it either. He once made us try to write an essay. What an idiot. He didn’t get fired, because he caught Billy Walters pre-maritally kissing Julia Smits. Premarital kissing! It’s like the guy never attended an Abstinence class.

Anyway, I chose not to major in Finance in college – big mistake. That’s why every morning I have to get up and look for a job. It’s okay; I live in America, presented by AT&T. There’s  always an opportunity to make a better life for yourself in any of our great states, be it Burgerking, WindowsVistastan, New Walmart, Jesusville, Cornsyrup or even Utah.

It’s my job to pick a career – be it in Finance, Importing, Pilot, Truck Driver, Stay-at-home-Palin or Trash Burner. I’m really hoping for Trash Burner because the benefits are incredible. After just one year of training at the Ronald Reagan Trash Burning School, I will have my degree in Trash Burning and be eligible for up to two – TWO! – vacation days a year!

Corporations are great. As I drive my Hummer around town, because public transportation is for homosexuals that get sent away to re-Jesus Camps, I remember that my parents told me there was a time when corporations didn’t run the country. Wow. Next thing you’re going to tell me there was a time when Muslims were allowed to fly on planes.

As for corporations not running the country, I find that crazy. I’m old enough to remember when we shut down the last Socialist Bookville. Could you imagine a place where we took a bunch of “books” – I’m sorry if I’m boring you to death by bringing it up – and let everybody borrow them! Socialism at its worst.

Ah, here we are – Ronald Reagan Trash Burning School. Usually, I’m late; I forget to make a right onto Ronald Reagan Lane after I get off the Ronald Reagan Turnpike. Silly me. The GPS in this Hummer is messed up, plus the gas mileage is 8mpg. I need to get one with at least 4mpg, I get teased enough as it is. Oh no- there’s Sally Taylor. I was at a party and in my inebriation gave her an unprotected hug. Not very Palin of me, I know. I’m not proud of it.

As I pretend to press the “Door Open” button on the elevator and watch as Sally sprints her unattractively lean 325 pound body toward me, I look out the glass of the elevator to the smog-filled America below me. I’m disappointed that I live in a town where buildings have more than two stories, meaning I don’t live in the heartland. But I know that one day, if I sit on my butt long enough, good things will automatically happen to me. After all, that’s what the American dream is.

The elevator door opens, and I take a quick drink from the KFC Gravy fountain – got to stay hydrated; it’s really taxing on the body to take an elevator, but I don’t have to tell you that! I’m actually early. It’s good because I ate a vegetable last night on a dare, and I have to go to the bathroom and take a huge Reagan.