By Cassandra Talbot
I wanted to hide today, but I couldn’t. This isn’t going to get me. He is not going to get me. I am fine. I’ve been fine for seven years, and regardless of whatever kind of bull—- he decides to pull, I will continue to be fine.
Yes, I’m fine. That’s what I told Sarah when she questioned me as I handed her an armful of plants to throw away. She didn’t say anything in return, and I didn’t look at her. I don’t know what she thought, but I really don’t care. I’m fine. And, right now, that’s all that matters to me.
I didn’t want to risk the whole phone thing, so I told her to take messages all day. If anyone important had called, I could return his or her call tomorrow. Nobody did, by the way. Mostly people wanting to know how to join. And that is why Sarah gets paid – to say the same thing over and over again that I don’t have time to say once, let alone 90 times a day.
I think Sarah is more bothered by the fact that unsolicited people want to join than I am. If they call or come to the office, they have to go through her to get to me, so I’ve got myself a nice little cushion there. Thank God for Sarah. As long as Sarah continues to be the amazing, non-intrusive assistant that she is, I’m going to be fine. But I guess I knew that already because I’m fine now. Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been, I am now, and I will continue to be at least this one thing … and that is fine. I am fine, more-than-fine fine.