salience
May 25, 2004
My phone rings in the obnoxious, declaratory tone I picked all those months ago. And it flashes, that same lumiscent blue shade with a number I know by heart. But I'm in a production meeting, so I hit reject and wait for the voicemail beep. And she looks at me, asks if I'm expecting a call, and I say yes, things aren't going so well at home. And she pauses and then sighs--go on and check, it may be important. I'm a daughter by instinct default, so I do. And it's el papa, and I press nine to save. Later, I can call, later. But then today, we're talking semantics and details I never even considered for my business in january and she says, listen you're going through a rough time. You aren't emotionally stable, and to be honest, you're a threat to the success of this program. It's in the best interest of everyone involved for you to walk away, and don't worry. We'll continue where you've left off. And I'm blindsided. My heart is broken, my life for the past semester now entirely in her hands. And she smiles, offering work for me as a painter for another operator on our, her team. And I shake my head and turn to leave, because it's all I know how to do.
lasaliente, 21:49
