I shouldn’t call it wage slavery, but a lot of jobs can feel like that. Tracy poured her heart out to me about going in to work this morning.
“I love working there, except for some of the caustic people who work with me,” Tracy told me. “The women all gossip and backstab each other. I ignore them and I feel like an outsider.”
“I would work a few days for you to give you a break if I could,” I replied. “I certainly would give them something to gossip about!”
Tracy chuckled.
“I know you would,” Tracy said warmly. “I appreciate the sentiment.”
Tracy got up and headed to the front door.
“Remember! In four short hours you’ll be home for lunch!”
Tracy said it was her saving grace.
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