All my life Ive worked in an underpaid, womanizing, greesy fry-pit called a deli, or a pizza place. I finally landed a job in the small architect building working as a secretary doing a job I never thought I could do. I didn’t go looking for this position, it came to me. Which is ironic because I wasn’t giving it my all to get such a great result. I was hiding behind dishes and cry-babies and a job called motherhood. The real question is, what job do I truly flourish in? Am I a great mom with a small job, or a small mom with a great job?
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The weekend: part 1

   A baby’s cry is probably the one noise in the work you can hear through a deep sleep. And for some reason…a Saturday is when it comes the earliest , with “loads” of fun.
   You tell yourself that you live a life full of support and that there is something more than a lump of coal laying across from you…but t
Fact of the matter is if you want something done you have to do it yourself amd whether its the weekend or the no end, you
U no longer have the opportunity to pile the covers over eyes and meet back up with dream you were having before you so rudely interrupted. So make a pot of coffee, get kids their cup pies and strap up. `cuz its the weekend, and you still got 48 hrs! 

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