(stupid popcorn before bed, this is all your fault)
I dreamed that I was fired from my most-of-the-time fantastic job.
Grounds for Dismissal: I didn’t look my age. Because I don’t look “seasoned”, clients were figuring the company was also green and, frankly, I was bad for business.
So the company went out and interviews candidates behind my back. “Emily” was supposed to be my age, but looked more of what the public thinks people my/our age should look like. Emily was ugly.
I cried and wailed and bawled my eyes out. My chest hurt, my eyes stung…
So I asked my co-worker to walk with me to the garden supply shop down the street (which, BTW, there totally isn’t around the office) and she explains that the company is letting me go due to budget constraints. And at this point, I ask if the company can fire one of my other co-workers instead.
Very sad, I end up at home. I think to myself that maybe it’s my blond hair that’s holding me back. So I take a box of brown dye and color my hair (with velcro rollers), only to find out I didn’t have enough dye and a chunk of my hair is still blond. Also, the bathroom where I am dying my hair is the bathroom in the house I grew up in.
Do blonds not have more fun?!?!