This week I felt like I just couldn't make it one more day. Every day felt like it took all my effort to get through and by the end of my shifts I was completely beat and physically sore as if I had been pushing a Volkswagon uphill. Then I came in to work Tuesday morning and of course the first thing I managed to do was break a goddamned mirror. Ironically enough, instead of feeling dread, I felt released. I thought, really, things couldn't get much worse--what with Pat being unemployed and me having put in my notice on a gamble with a temp agency and having just three and a half weeks to completely catch up on the rent or face eviction. It felt like the spell was broken in that moment, and I just might have seven years of good luck instead.
Wednesday I spoke with the landlord who is normally a raving diamond-studded bitch, but I must have caught her in an understanding mood because she didn't eat my face off through the phone from Boston, Mass. Maybe her personal assistant finally found the little man in the boat--whatever the case, I still live INdoors. Then at eight thirty this morning, my day off, a call came through from the staffing service to tell me they lined something up for me for this Monday. Magically, a few hours later, Pat was offered a job as well. We might make it after all!
As far as the mall is concerned, I have just ONE MORE shift as assistant manager, and I am praying I don't go out in a rain of fire.
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