“Seriously? What do you mean, I have to work on Sunday?” I said on the phone in the middle of Saturday afternoon as I was doing the laundry. I was so angry I could snap something in two…preferably my boss’s neck. Rapunzel had retired to the bedroom when I started yelling. I’d been losing my temper a lot lately.
“Two people up and quit yesterday and no one else is available to take the shifts on Sunday. Everybody’s busy, and Randy is working six hours, but I need you to cover the rest. You’ve done this before. Why is it a problem now?” Because I never had a hot date that I didn’t want to miss and was more important to me than keeping my f*****g job. Which should have made me pause, but I was past caring, it seemed.
“It’s always been a problem, Bob; I’ve just never complained about it befo
