Jenny tried to make herself look smaller and increased her pace. It's probably just a coincidence or something! People do tell her she has a very common face. Well, not really, but nobody needs to know that. If she can make it down the street without being accosted by more weirdos who know too much about her dreams, that would be just great, thank you. Salvation came at the next city block, in the form of her workplace. She nearly ran in, and slammed the door behind her.

"You're awfully excited," commented the receptionist at the front counter, an aging woman with a sharp tongue and a heart of gold . . . or at least electrum.

"Yeah. Mondays, you know?" Jenny answered, putting on her best fake smile. The lady didn't seem very convinced by it, but fortunately didn't push the matter. She walked past the side door into her small workplace and its comforting mess. At last, somewhere where she could just take her mind off things.