A Tale: In Which Kaylee Get's Real (with a capital "R")

Last Tuesday morning I woke up. It was the day our official honeymoon would end. I looked over and saw my amor, the King, sleeping. I whispered to him, "please, please don't make me go back to work." He grumbled something I'm sure was clever and rolled back over. I bravely threw the sheets off my body, stumbled into the shower, dressed in a whirlwind and then, laid back on the bed and said, "please amor. Please don't make me go." He kissed me in his sleep and said, "thanks for going to work today." 

With that I mustered the bravery to drive into a job that I had only been at for a little over two months and had already grown to dread. As I drove into work, I was hit, once again, with the same feeling I had felt moments before when I begged the King to let me stay home with him; the feeling of something looming. I don't know why, but I had this feeling that something bad was about to happen. I shook the feeling off and continued to drive through the traffic towards what is now my worst nightmare.

I pulled into the parking lot, breathed in a huge breath, braced myself for another week back and walked in, with my head held as high as I could. The second my elevator doors opened and I could see our receptionist's face behind the frosted glass, I knew. I knew that the feeling I had earlier was about to come true. She said, "Jon wants to see you before you do anything else." I immediately though... 

Am I about to be fired? I hope I'm about to be fired. Wait, no, not yet. I need to find a job first. THEN I can be fired. I think I'm okay with hoping that I'm about to be fired.

Jon was waiting for me. He said there was no easy way of doing this, especially since they all liked me so much. He said that I have been working really hard and that they saw how hard I was working and it was good work, but SHE just couldn't work with me. That, the fact that she couldn't work with me, is what stung. I have been working so hard to make her like me. I put up with her verbal abuse, her blame, her emotional mood swings, her straight up crazy. She COULD work with me... I was making that VERY easy for her. She was choosing NOT to work with me.

I shed a few tears (after all, I would have to come home and tell me brand new husband that I was now unemployed...), gathered my few belongings and walked out the door. I drove home in the pouring rain, feeling great that I was freed from the horrible situation I had been in for the past couple of months, but very sad that I would now be a burden on the King. As I pulled into the driveway, I saw a bright pink umbrella walking towards me.

"Hello, creature! Welcome back home. I love you." 

It was all he said. And it was enough.