Square Peg ● Round Hole







My relationship with math, goes back a long way. We have never been able to relate to one another. Math is always asking me to solve its problems and I, in turn, make them worse. My father was a patient man until he began to help me with my homework. I probably had some learning differences that were never diagnosed or I was simply lazy, the jury is still deliberating. I do know that I found math to be a bitch.

Fast forward to one summer where a neighbor of my parents secured a pretty nice internship for me. It was a true representation of being an adult where I was wearing professional clothing and working in a very esteemed profession. I thought math and I could maybe put our differences aside so I could excel in my new job….a bank teller. The irony was not lost on me, but I was hopeful. That was a mistake.

I was a floating teller, so my location changed day to day or sometimes, I got lucky enough to stay for a week. That summer, two of the banks got robbed the day after I left and I was unsuccessful in ever having a balanced drawer. I hated being a teller.

So, now that I am freelance writing, I get daily emails with lists of opportunities. The universe has a twisted sense of humor as most of the jobs are writing for financial institutions. Well played, math. Well played.

Some people are scared of spiders, I am deathly afraid of numbers. They are so needy. Always asking people to solve their problems for them. I am sticking to the things that I am good at like writing and sarcasm. Those have served me well while math has done nothing but taunt me. I rid my life of toxic energy and math was the first to go.