given the option of working remotely, with that being the
encouraged choice. It seemed ideal. Getting to work from
home. Lounging around all day in my pajamas. Making my
own schedule.
You know what’s not ideal? Almost getting fired six
months after getting hired because the past two months have
been a disaster for me.
This is the one that is either going to make me or break
me. Freaking literally. Okay, it might not make me, but if I
mess up again, it could very well mean looking for new jobs. I
did browse through the classifieds section yesterday, when I
got up. I saw a serving position advertised for a medieval
themed bar and grill. They used the term ‘wench’ to describe
the position. Ugh. I can’t believe they won’t get sued over that.
Wench? Seriously? That’s about all there is out there right now
though, which doesn’t put any pressure on me at all.
Nooooooo. None whatsoever.
I shift Tildy to my other hip as we fly across the street
before the little walking man light goes off. I hit the curb,
nearly stumble, but manage to set my other foot forward and
keep on going. I did have to dress professionally, so that
means that I’m doing this in a skirt and blouse. Thank god for
the ballet flats I put on this morning, anticipating that I’d be
late.
I can’t blame Tildy, even if she did take a hundred
years to let me get her ready this morning. I should have just
offered her something to eat in the car. I shouldn’t have cared
that she dropped cereal all over her shirt. I shouldn’t have
insisted that she try to pee before we left, even though she
insisted she didn’t have to. I should have known I wouldn’t