Well it was bound to happen sometime. I would have preferred never, but hey, we all gotta pay the bills.
That’s right. I’m back at work.
My new job is OK. I’m doing waxing again which I like and the people I’m working with are really cool so that’s a plus. However, I’m making significantly less money than I used to at my old place. In fact, for the entire first week that I’m training, I’m being paid minimum wage before I start my regular schedule where tips and commissions are involved. I also have to wear scrubs now instead of my standard black flared yoga pants and matching T-shirt.
As I was walking to the gym after my shift today, I had a funny thought. I pictured myself at sixteen peering into the future and catching a glimpse of me now at thirty-four in my new uniform. How excited would I be when I thought Oh my God! Look at me, I’m a doctor when I grow up!
And then how my jaw would drop when my crystal ball told me “No honey, you work at McDonalds.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, so naturally I texted Vanna with my vision right away. This was her response:
That’s a best friend for you.