When My Key Wouldn’t Fit the Lock, I Knew Something Had Changed

handed me a breakfast sandwich in a parking lot and sat with me while I cried.

Go see Rita. Take three days.

He wasn’t giving me a break. He was clearing the house.

The promotion, my manager asking if I was managing, the slow erosion of my friendships and my credibility as a stable person, all of it pointing in the same direction. A woman stretched thin continue reading …