The things I do to myself...

Hullo, my writer friends.

As you know, I've been working just a little over full time since May. Six days a week. Every morning I wave to the Beloved and I drive away in my Neon, wishing I could be home with them. It would all be better soon, I told myself. Soon my new employee would be able to handle things on her own for a day at a time, and I could have some days off with my kids before they, you know, grow up.

Except yesterday, I let my employee go.

It just wasn't going to work. She's a very sweet girl, just a little more clueless than I thought. Hint: when you take a job and agree to the offered (fair!) wage, you need to know ahead of time if that is enough money to pay your bills. When you discover that your obligations outstrip your income, don't expect your employer, who has spent thousands of dollars training you for an entire summer, to let you hang around while you look for a better job. Ain't happening, sweetheart. Bye.

So that leaves me where? Working my butt off, for one, with a hiring hangover that looks like it's going to last until, oh, Christmas. I don't even want to advertise, I feel like I just got out of a relationship - I need some time.

The icing on the cake? I just got off the phone with a woman. The conversation went like this:
Her: "Hello, to what time are you open this evening?"
Me: "Six o'clock."
Her: "Six o'clock, on a Friday before you close for a long weekend. That's just wonderful."
Me: Stunned pause, while I reel from the sarcasm.
Her: "Thank you so much."
Me: "Uh, thank you." For not shopping here. Ever.

Amazing. You know, I go out of my way for people. Just this morning I went outside without a coat in the pissing freaking rain to carry a computer to a woman's car. Every second day, I wait an extra few mintues so some poor overworked shmuck can make it here in time to pick up his machine. I follow up. I care. You won't get that kind of service anywhere else.

So thank YOU, lady-who-was-calling-from-home, who is probably watching Oprah right now. You suck.

Thank heavens for my real customers, the people who see and appreciate how long and hard I work.