I moved to this highrise several years ago — and finally opened the last moving box. It had school report cards, class photos, and newspaper clips from early in my career.

I spent a couple of hours reviewing my reports, and something hit me like a slap. We’re all stuck in a system of reports and lists.

Think school report cards are a kid’s game? You’re dead wrong. They’re prepping you for the nine-to-five grind. A through F, pluses and minuses, it’s a whole circus act designed to put you in your place.

Flash forward to my first newspaper job, my first evaluation. My manager called me into the back office. Papers spread out, and it looked all too familiar. Like my high school report card, but without the doodles. Punctuality, teamwork, and performance — all had their neat little categories.

He looked at the paper, looked at me, then finally spoke. “Doing good, but room for improvement.”

Annual reviews are report cards.

They’re lists.

William Cooper, the late conspiracy radio host, was big on lists. He told his listeners there’s only one list in this world. Everything else, grades and promotions, is a subset like a Venn diagram of life’s screw-ups and victories.

You trade an “A” for a Christmas bonus; a “C” gets you a sit-down with human resources. Different stages, same drama. You live by the list; you get clipped by the list.

Here’s the lowdown: the system’s rigged like a carnival game. Your GPA morphs into your annual review, and your kindergarten gold stars become employee-of-the-month plaques.

The list never ends.

We’re all waiting for the next rating, the next evaluation, like a never-ending game of musical chairs. Just make sure you’re not the one left standing when the music stops.