"I think I may have a job," I told my nurse this morning during our every two week injection ritual.
"Oh, I am so proud of you!" she exclaimed as she gave me a hug.
I left the doctor's office and went by my father's pharmacy. He was handing me my Benadryl as I told him about the job.
"Just don't go for the interview," he said. "I can't see you working at McDonald's anyway."
"I'll think about it," I told him. "I really want to work."
I left the pharmacy and went by my parent's house to get my Social Security card. I never can get my mother's maid's name straight. I call her by her sister's name. She gets pissed off. "Helen!" she said brusquely correcting me.
Well, today is the big day. Sadly, I can't afford to work and it is probably going to be the stupidest thing I have ever done by returning. I am awash in emotion this morning as I ponder what to do. I looked online and the job is most likely going to be third shift -- third shift at minimum wage. Doesn't sound too appealing does it? I am going to give it the good college try, though. I hope to be working by this weekend.