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It's Monday. Today is the last day of my week. I work Thursday through Sunday at my job as a receptionist for an Assisted Living Facility. I've been working here ten years. These people, both the residents and my co-workers, have been like family to me. I've been thankful to be a part of this family, especially recently, with what I've been going through.

On my days off I usually do everthing I didn't get a chance to do during the work-week. You know the drill, shopping, bank and bills, doctors, house cleaning and laundry. I usually don't mind doing all these mundane chores, but the last few weeks have been very hard for me. On Tuesdays, bank and bills are done early at home online. Then it's house cleaning. The big stuff, you know, like cleaning the fridge, mopping the floors and washing the windows. If I have an appointment, it's off to the doctor after that. On Wednesdays I usually do the grocery shopping and then come back and start the laundry while I put away the food and prep different items for my weekly meals.

Yes, Wednesday is laundry day. Of all the chores I have to do on my days off, laundry is my least favorite. I didn't mind laundry day before. I even kind of looked forward to it because it was a chance to look at all the kids little outfits they had worn throughout the week. I would smile and think to myself "My, how they've grown". or "They'll need new underwear soon." Sometimes I would find a hidden "treasure" like a favorite leaf, rock or sometimes a private note tucked into one of the pockets. Of couse there were the times I found not so welcome items like markers with the tops off, old melted candy or smashed spiders and bugs that were"collected." I even found money over the years, some claimed, some not.

My husband, Pete, used to leave me little surprises in his pockets as well. The notes were cute. They said things like I Love You, Happy Birthday, Miss you and such. I even found earrings and a very nice diamond necklace once. I was so surprised. He said he put them there to brighten my day, and that they did. That is until I finally realized they weren't really for me at all. I found out that all the "surprises" in my husband's pockets were either from or for someone else. Each Tuesday, while I was at home paying bills and such, apparently he was out doing HIS thing with some other woman. Then on Wednesday's when I loaded laundry, I found his little reminders and trinkets that he either forgot to remove from his pockets or maybe the woman

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