O-V-E-R-C-O-M-P-E-N-S-A-T-I-N-G

Going through customs at New York's JFK airport on Saturday night, returning from Ireland:

Customs Agent: What is your occupation in North Carolina?

Me: I have worked for three years as a part-time private duty aide for an elderly woman who has an indiscernible neurological disorder.

Customs Agent: Welcome back.

He's thinking, "She has to be an American citizen, you can't make that $#!& up;-)."

[I really wasn't that bad, but it felt pretty close. It had been one long 36 hours. I just wanted to be home:-).]