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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