04.22.10 :: 8:13 pm


daycare is hard work. for me, I mean.

they actually send the boy home with, like, projects. for me, I mean.

Like gathering pictures for his family tree.

He's not even two years old. He barely knows what life is.

anyway, whatever, I guess we're getting our twenty grand worth. TWENTY GRAND. Yes, per year, you read that right.

What in the world is the world coming to?
I ASK YOU.


But I will say that he's surprisingly learning stuff. He can stack eight blocks on top of each other (a skill I'm told is quite advanced), and he knows some new words and songs and he can say the name of his favorite teacher.

All this is not to say that he doesn't throw the most epic meltdowns when I drop him off, however.
And that when I get his status updates in the middle of the day, the word "rollercoaster" isn't featured prominently.

I'm told it gets better.
And that he'll get used to it.

He has no other choice, unfortunately.

In "Getting Used to Things" news, my new job is crazyfied (which I expected) and I feel a vast amount of pressure to do a phenomenal job because people have been whispering about my arrival and what a rockstar I supposedly am at what I do.

People have been trying to leech my services from my assigned department since the hour I set foot in the building.

My immediate supervisor has not introduced me to many people because of this.

I'm just going to try to bang out these 2 major projects for them first since they're insanely urgent and then my presence will be fully known.

Shit's crazy, is all I will say.
Apparently, they've never had anyone fill this role before which is bananas.

Anyway, tomorrow is Friday. I have survived my first week, and I'm definitely earning that paycheck.

I get paid on Monday.
My last ever unemployment check JUST cleared.

Talk about your perfect timing.

Sometimes, some things work out just so.

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