Once a week or so
She gets up in the morning and looks at the Muffin, already laughing from his cot while he stares at the starred patterned curtains in his room. She makes coffee and hears the sound of the shower. All three of them have breakfast. Sometimes it's like a tacky happy family around toasts, sometimes it's just regular morning silence with a hint of grumpiness.

She gets dressed. She puts high heels on once a week or so. She applies some make up. Most of the times. She rides the car and drops the Muffin off at school, then proceeds into the morning jam. Perhaps a song from someone's new album slips out of the radio. Maybe she purses her lips after discovering a zit coming up on her chin in the rearview mirror. She arrives at work. Wherever that is.

This is the tricky part. She enters the building and probably heads for the lift. Her desk. A thristy plant. Work colleagues wearing their somewhat silly casual friday tenure. She connects the computer: mail, on line planner, main page.

She types away. What she is writing and whether or not it is remotely interesting, i cannot say. Not yet. Not until she gets the job interview. A job interview. At some undisclosed place. For the time being, she gets up in the morning and looks at the Muffin, already laughing from his cot while he stares at the starred patterned curtains in his room. She makes coffee and crosses her fingers for luck.