Free The Brenda Diaries by Margo Candela

his nose when he lets one loose. He must have allergies because he sneezes and blows his nose a lot. Or maybe a coke habit. Right behind me sits a woman who kind of reminds me of my mom except she has a thick, phlegmy smoker’s cough. She pops Ricola all day, which she doesn’t suck like it says to on the package directions; she crunches. To the left is a woman who sighs an average of 15 times an hour and needs to stop teasing her bangs into a pouf. I’m not going to bother trying to figure out who the nail clipper is, but I am assuming it’s a he. I’m sexist.
    This assignment ends tomorrow. I hope they don’t ask me back (even though things have been light with temp assignments and I can’t afford to turn a job down). If they ask, I’m not going to say no. At the same time, I’m going to keep my mouth shut so I don’t have to say yes. All this quiet is messing with my mind.
     
    Friday, June 10:
    Lunch is my least favorite part of the work day. I’m forced to take a 40 minute break, which for me is too much time to eat and too little time to run errands. I used to work through lunch until my temp agency said I couldn’t because of some dumb law or something. After eating, I have to keep myself busy for 30 minutes until I can go back to work. I find an empty conference room and pull out my Blackberry so I can call my rep at TempOne and harass her for another assignment for the next week.
    “It’s Brenda. You know why I’m calling.” Summer’s married with three kids and another on the way. She doesn’t like her job, but told me it’s easier than staying home and being a full-time mom and housewife. “You got anything juicy for next week?”
    “Lemme check.” Summer chews gum all the time and isn’t quiet about it. “That lawyer called. I told him you were open for next week.”
    “Him. Again.” I roll my eyes and keep them focused on the ceiling until the dots on the tiles start to blur together. “I can’t face it.”
    “He really seems to like you. There has to be something going on between you two.” Summer thinks everyone is having sex with everyone else. “He’s willing to pay at the top of your scale.”
    “Pass.” While I like depositing fat checks into my bank account, I’m not in the mood to be a reluctant dominatrix. “What else is there? Something that doesn’t suck, preferably, but I’m flexible.”
    “It’s really light, Brenda, but….” Summer knows I’ll take just about any assignment. “There’s something in Glendale. Telemarketing. And the pay is not great.”
    It’s a pain in the ass to commute and I’ve never done any telemarketing, but it’s either that or Theo or nothing. “I’ll take it.”
     
    Saturday, June 11:
    I decided to read in bed and that turned into an almost five hour coma. Worse, I had a green apple Jolly Rancher in my mouth when I fell asleep. I bet I’ve rotted my teeth and will have to get dentures or something.
    My big plans for what’s left of my Saturday are to brush and floss my teeth a lot and be in a bad mood. My toilet is still making weird noises so I have to shut off the water to get any quiet. Then I have to turn it back on to flush it. Maya is fighting with Armie so she’s moping on my couch watching Lifetime lady crack movies.
    Jared wants to come over, but I can’t face another marathon of kissy face and hand holding. There’s only so much PDA one person should be forced to put up with for the sake of not hurting the other person’s feelings. I agreed to go to brunch with him tomorrow so he’s just going to have to find something else to pet to tide him over until then.
    Cal texted. He wants to hang out. Told him I’m in a foul mood, but he likes grouchy girls. I know if I say yes, I won’t be home until right before my brunch date with Boyfriend and I’ll feel worse than I already do. Yeah, no thanks.
    This grouchy girl is staying home and wondering how soon she can go back to sleep.
     
    Sunday, June 12:
    Oh, happy