Written By Lindsey Gunter

My layoff date approached, red jackets began to appear in thrift store windows around town (ouch), and I found myself sitting in a dark, shabby room covered in concrete dust - clearly the only habitable place in the general sea of construction going on inside. I was interviewing for a new dispensary’s ownership that got my resume from The Blacklist. “Gold” someone had called it. We knew some of the same people, shared some brand-building opinions and a desire for an open, feminine, inclusive ideal for the dispensary. I shook hands and agreed to an hourly rate until opening, upon which time a salary for myself and the people I brought into other key positions would go into effect. I walked out and just about danced all the way home.

Do you ever wish you could just go back in time, not to prevent anything from happening necessarily, but to warn yourself? I probably would’ve just tapped myself on the shoulder and simply said, “Don’t dance yet.”

But alas, as I danced down the street, “Finally,” I thought, “this is my chance to put a real dent in the binary!”