Standing Room Only

I always had to have fresh flowers in my apartment.  It was a tradition started by my mother and I have never been able to let the tradition die.  The local flower shops know me by name, but I am beginning to get worried about my finances.  As the years have gone on, the price of flowers have slowly but surely started increasing.  I started working at the closest florist to my house basically to get a discounted rate on the flowers I intended to buy, but didn’t realize how much I would actually enjoy going to work at the same time.  And having a job requiring me to work with my hands. 

My mother was a bank manager for a number of years and I had fallen into the same path mainly due to the fact I wasn’t sure of what I wanted to do ‘when I grew up.’  I didn’t particularly like working in a bank and this lack of interest is probably what led to me not getting the same promotions my mother did.  Working with my hands made me feel like I was actually making a difference and wasn’t wasting my time wasting away behind the desk.  For the first time, I was relishing the fact my finances forced me to find something new and different.  That was before the florist’s husband was arrested for embezzlement and my dreams of being a full-time florist went down the drain.  But after I became an accomplice.