"Okay, no placebos. Huh, they wrote that twice. I wonder why that's impor-- oh, I see. Compensation for travel. Good. Pills and IUD. Hmmm.... Great for people with no insurance. Yeah, I bet--- What? What am I--? Heather, what are you doing? Back away from the Craigslist."
I've been looking for a part-time job for a few weeks now, preferably office work, but to little avail. Most leads are soon squelched. My hours of availability are random. I called about a possible nannying job, but when I heard three separate high-pitched screams in the background from children aged 5,6, and 8, respectively, I politely declined.
I interviewed to nanny a six-month old yesterday, and was fairly speechless when she asked for any childcare references.
"I like you," the young mother smiled later. "And Gadia likes you, too." It was true--the chubby little blonde hadn't stopped staring at me with her big eyes since I walked in the door. The mother's eyes had gotten just as big when I acquiesced the information that I was married and, oh, wait for it, 21 years old. "I knew from when I spoke with you on the phone that you'd be so friendly."
"But," I was tempted to add, "I have no references, and you're not interested in hiring some stranger off the street to care for your firstborn."
She followed my thought with a similar thought pattern spoken aloud.
I wake up with Michael in the mornings. It's only right. But I know it's a little disconcerting to him to leave his wife sitting at home on the couch all day, even if she is doing homework and doing stupid home-ish things like insurance and banking paperwork. But he hasn't complained yet, and he even comes home during his lunch hour to keep me company--a more than welcome distraction. Even today he said:
"You're a perfect amount of needy. You're not clingy, but you make me feel needed. I like that," he offered.
I then clung perfectly and desperately to his leg as he walked to his car, bumping quietly down the steps. I didn't want to see the couch ever again.
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