For some reason, Susan Ellen never liked me to leave her house. I think that I was the hardest part for me. When I was unemployed my least favorite part was being cooped up in my house all day. Now that I was employed, I was cooped up in someone else’s house all day.
After the sweet potato incident, I decided that I would take care of my own lunch. I hated the fact that Susan Ellen lived in the Palisades, deep in Topanga Canyon and the fact I was in my stage "bring my own lunch with me to save money." Sure, I was saving money but at what cost?
Susan Ellen told me that I could eat lunch in the office. I asked if I could at least go the kitchen to eat. She said, “No. I don’t mind if you eat up here.”
I couldn’t even leave the room! I felt like I was starring in Anne Frank Goes to Hollywood.
Every time I ate my peanut butter sandwich, I felt Susan Ellen’s eyes on me. I would take a half an hour to eat and surf around the internet, checking Facebook, Perez Hilton, or email my mom about how ridiculous this job was.
The whole time, Susan Ellen would just stare at me. I could feel her judging me.
“Oh! That peanut butter is probably clogging her colon.”
“She’s drinking water out of a plastic water bottle? She’s so going to get cancer.”
“I can’t believe she goes on websites with words on them! She’s reading during her lunch break?”