Monday felt more normal than Saturday and Sunday. I'm used to working weekends, having Monday and Tuesday off. If I don't feel obligated, it must be Monday, and it'll be easier to forget about being unemployed.

I headed for the shower as soon as I rolled out of bed. The window in the shower was bursting with eastern morning sun, which hurt my eyes. Its extra warmth was worth any discomfort. I turned the water as hot as I could stand it, turning so that it struck my right shoulder. With my back to the window, I watched as narrow streams of water like fine white hairs bounced off my skin. In the ray of sun, the mist made two narrow rainbows, dissolving into dots of color where the stream dispersed.

I stared at the dancing strands of water, bands of color that broke, recalling the process of water refracting light to make pure color. When I was a kid, I was obsessed with rainbows. But instead of putting my energy into collecting Rainbow Bright dolls, I poured it into science books, learning how rainbows were made. Every science fair project I did from third through sixth grade involved prisms, water, light, and refraction.

When I was that age, what did I want to be when I grew up? Not a chef, I know that much. I wanted to be the first woman to play Major League Baseball, an author, an astronaut, a model, a stripper, an actress, a veterinarian. I wanted to be everything. So, now that I don't have a job, what does that make me?

I turned towards the faucet, the rainbow exploding with my movement away from the light. Quickly, I washed my face, soaped my body, rinsed, and got out.

Without bothering to dry, I went back to the bedroom and called Elaine, knowing she'd been awake for a few hours. Sure enough, she was working on the quilt she'd been making for her son and daughter-in-law.

"C'mon. I'll treat you to lunch. You're poor now," she chuckled.

We met on the patio at Los Bandidos at 1:00, ordering a pitcher of strawberry margaritas and chicken quasildillas with fruit salsa. The working people were thinning out, returning to their offices after gulping their lunches. I helped myself to Elaine's cigarettes.

"Silly girl. You don't smoke."

"I do when I'm upset, drinking, or around other smokers. I'm batting three for three today." I snapped her Zippo closed, inhaling deeply. It had been months since I'd had a cigarette, and I wanted to cough, but I resisted.

"Really, though," she put her hand on my arm. "How are you?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I've been fine so far, mostly. Just going about my business. I kind of freaked out Saturday morning, but it was brief. How were the weddings?"

"Oh, they were the usual, " Elaine waved nonchalantly before pouring more margarita in my half-full glass. "Jan tried to fill in for you, and she couldn't even turn on the oven. Phillip sat on his ass, reading a cookbook, and Charlotte and I did all the work."

"Shit, Laine, I'm sorry, " I hadn't even though about who would shoulder the extra work. "I hate that you're getting stuck with this. I'll help you on the side, if you want."

"Absolutely not!" she crowed, slapping my arm hard enough to sting. "You're not working for free, and it's not your responsibility, anyway. Don't worry about me. When it gets too rough, I'll just let it fall on Jan and Phillip. You know he doesn't do shit. At least enjoy the revenge that comes with quitting."

"Good point." I nibbled at the quasildilla before lighting another cigarette. "You know, if I'd quit dying my hair, I'd have as much gray as you." Elaine's hair was half black, half silver. I colored mine chestnut brown, covering mouse brown. Over the past five years I'd only seen my natural roots, and they were getting lighter every month.

"You're only twenty-five, Thalia. I've got twenty years and three kids over you. You're too young to be this gray."

"I know." The sun and margaritas and nicotine were starting to play with my brain. "I'm young enough to be stupid enough to quit my job with no savings account to my name."

"You're young enough to call it a do-over."

"True. I just don't know what I'm going to do-over."

"Listen, it doesn't have to be your lifeblood, whatever job you take. It's only one-third of your time. Spend that one-third making the money to finance the other two-thirds, which is all yours. Just find something that will let you have a life you enjoy, that doesn't belong to someone else."

"Elaine, do you realize what a disservice parents do to their kids? My parents told me all along that I could be anything I wanted. They never told me how to figure out what I wanted, though." Elaine narrowed her gray eyes at me, silent, before raising her arms to play "My Heart Bleeds for You" on her pretend violin. I laughed as she croaked the melody. "Okay, I'm being pathetic," I admitted. "But they did lie to me. If I could be anything I wanted, I'd be a hybrid of Cindy Crawford-Olivia Newton John-George Brett-Neil Armstrong-Judy Blume. Do you see that happening?" We both erupted into snorts of giggles until tears dappled our eyes.

"You're right, Thalia," Elaine dabbed at her eyes. "Most of us can't fulfill those childhood dreams, but you can't tell that to an eight-year-old. No reason to destroy her will to live until she's at least gone through puberty." The waitress cleared our plates, and Elaine grabbed the check. For once, I didn't fight her for it.