I hand in a seven-page single-spaced resignation letter to my shocked boss and walk out. I get an ice cream cone (mint chocolate chip) from Baskin Robbins and ride my bike home. (note to self: ride your bike to work that day). I get a job as a housekeeper/barista/waitress/bartender and wear ripped jeans and tee shirts with text on them every day. I wear headbands and pull my hair back in ponytails so little soft tendrils fall down the sides. I blow them off my forehead as I dust/foam/fry/shake. I keep riding my bike to work every day. I’m poor.
100 Word Life Plans
for when you need to find your path, fast!
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