Good Thing It’s a Short Day

I’ve spent the whole second half of my day ringing. But I get out in just over an hour today. I am wearing long sleeves and not even feeling hot.

Malia, a coworker I’ve known since September, came right up in front of me and was looking down toward the middle of me. But she was way close to me. “Sorry,” she says, “I was just looking at your name tag.”

“My name’s Leah,” I say.

“I know,” she says, “because I looked at your name tag.”

I think she has Asperger’s. If she doesn’t, she has some kind of special needs. She is extremely awkward. In, like, a doesn’t-understand-social-boundaries way.

I feel like sometimes people aren’t that nice to her, or they’re not understanding that she clearly has special needs. I forget I’m not in an educational environment anymore, and that sometimes people legit don’t know.

She mistook me once for one of our managers the other day. Greta is probably in her 60s, but she is close to my height.

She (Malia) said she has to punch out exactly on the hour.

Speaking of punches, got to get back to it. I sometimes take longer breaks than I really should. It’s going to catch up with me eventually, I’m sure.

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