I have the world’s best job, but December kills me. First, there are all the Oscar-bait releases, which are often an embarrassment of riches. And then there are all the early January releases to see, too, and those are often just embarrassing.

Which is why it was such a pleasure to see “Lincoln” last week. Not necessarily because of the film (the script is overly preachy and the direction overly Spielberg-y) but because, get this: I saw it in the theater. With a friend. Surrounded by regular moviegoers. It’s the first time I’ve done that in more than two years.

My husband and I go out to see movies, but there’s always arranging the baby sitter and paying the baby sitter and realizing that because of the baby sitter you just spent more than $20 a ticket to see “Ted.” But this time I was free, my friend was free, we met at the theater for the matinee, and I watched a movie without a notebook on my lap.

Technically it was for work (I need to see anything that might be up for an Oscar, and they’ve already engraved Daniel Day-Lewis’ name on the trophy) and I’ll expense the ticket because, hello, I wrote a whole column about it. But last week, I simply got to go to the movies with a friend and rediscovered that, even with the world’s best job, I sometimes still need a break.