I've only had one proper job in my life. When I moved to Chicago in the summer of 2000, I was 22 years old, and I needed work. For starters, I needed money, but mostly I needed a reason to put on pants.

I went about six weeks without a job, and it was the most pantsless time of my life. I could go for or five days without putting on pants. In a sense, I was happy--what pantsless man isn't? But in another, deeper sense, I was horrifically depressed.

And then one day in July, a temp agency called me. (I'd put on pants to register with them a month earlier.) They offered me a job at the American Library Association. "Well," I thought, "it will get me out of the house, at least."

And it has, for five years. Booklist ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me, except for Sarah. And there's no way Sarah and I would have ended up together without Booklist, because she probably wouldn't have fallen in love with a bitter, pantsless, unemployed hermit.

The saddest part about leaving Chicago is leaving my job. I've never gotten up in the morning and gone anywhere but Booklist, and I never thought I'd have to. But alas.

I'm very lucky to be leaving for a job with another company I love: mental_floss. I'll be their books editor beginning on July 1st. Another great job with great people. (By the way, preorder the new mental_floss book now. I wrote a chapter.)

But there is one potential problem with my new gig: I'll be working full-time from home. So here's my plan: Every morning, no matter what, I will wake up at 8:00 AM. And then I will put on pants. We'll see how it goes.