October 3rd, 2002


This Fatal Flaw

I left work early today because I am sick. Sore throat, headache, chills, whatever. Plus, I was tired. Fluorescent lights steal my powers. So I only worked 5 out of eight hours, but after this week I don't think I'm going back. It's not worth the commute to Walnut Creek anyway.

I forgot to mention yesterday: my supervisor is my cousin.

While I was driving home, the toll-booth guy asked me if I was ok.

"Are you going to be all right? You look exhausted."

"I'm sick," I tell him. "I'm going home now."

"You take care of yourself."

Oh, and another reason why I look so dead is because I did what she told me and came to work in lip gloss and mascara. She made me put her mascara on when I got there because mine wasn't dark enough. Whatever.

She gave me this evil death glare for wanting to leave. If I hadn't left, I wouldn't have been able to get home. I felt so shitty that my eyes would just wobble back and forth when I tried to force them to focus on things.

But poop. This is no pity party.

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