You're passionate about your job and the candidates you want to accept. So passionate, that you tell the dean that if this one special girl (who you're sure will one day develop a cure for unsightly toenail fungus) isn't picked, you're walking. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out," he says.

Your first year as an admissions officer takes you to some pretty strange high schools. You're currently at a school for students training to be in the circus and you've found yourself eye to eye with an escaped brown bear named Baloo. Luckily you know how to defend yourself. You do, right?

You are promoted from roadrunner to head reader. Your mother is elated. The promotion doesn't come with a raise, but you have inherited 200 extra case files to review. Congrats.

You discover a very talented artist and manage to convince her to come to your obscure, under-attended art college in the middle of nowhere. The girl becomes a huge success, and easily the most famous alumni your school has ever had. Too bad her first graphic novel is about the horrors she had to endure at your school.

You're the head of admissions at Princeton and get to decide who gets in and who doesn't. You're treated like royalty by the academic community, have a decent salary, and have a lovely home in a beautiful, vibrant college town. You've been asked to write a book—offering advice to parents on how to raise genius kids—and are constantly booked on the lecture circuit at schools all around the country. You travel first class. It feels good to be king.