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Figs on the Job Hunt

Main Ingredients:
stay at home mom

Spice Pack:
1/3 whisper of grouchiness
1/4 cup of gladness
1/2 smidge of terror
1 tablespoon of exhilaration

Lisa smiled as she dusted off her favorite family photo - her 20 year old only son depicted as a toddler. A small chubby bundle of joy with half of his birthday cake clutched in his hands and the other all over his face. Her late husband behind laughing, face also painted in wishes and frosting. The apple certainly didn’t fall far from the tree. Lisa felt lucky that Ryan got that dazzling smile of Christopher’s. It’s something she’d always cherish, a reminder of the love of her life. That memorial service was probably the hardest day of her life, but she vowed to be strong for Ryan.

It had been almost a year and a half and so much had happened. Lisa, no longer a stay-at-home-mom, ventured out into the terrifying world where she was measured by the gaps in her resume rather than the passion in her voice. Supervisor after supervisor promised they would be in touch, to no avail. She felt frustrated, afraid, and ridiculous, like the Ice Age squirrel constantly in pursuit of the one acorn that was just always out of reach.

As Lisa moped around the mall searching for new DIY materials, the most overwhelming scent of figs overcame her. She followed the trail to what she considered the biggest sign the universe had ever given her - a candle Christopher lit over dinner. He thought it made everything smell like Greek Islands, but it just smelled like a corner bodega on a hot afternoon. They’d laugh about this and it was the core of their different tastes. Christopher insisted Vienna sausages were a luxury food while Lisa made sure all the peanut butter in the house was organic. At any rate, she turned her heel and walked away, nervous but with Christopher’s comfort alongside her.
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