Wednesday afternoon at three.
I hope they like me, and I hope they like me enough to hire me.
I have seen the future of me not working, and it will only end in tears and insanity. The past two weeks have been more than I can bear. I am not cut out for staying home. I feel resentment toward my husband and child. I indulge in self-loathing. Soon I will have to ask Kerwin for money for something or another, and the last vestiges of my independence will be utterly stripped away.
It isn't, nor will it be, pretty.
So, if you would think of me on Wednesday at three, I would be most appreciative. The job is something I think I would really enjoy. It involves food, cooking, and imparting my wisdom and talent for eating well on a budget to others.