More on living in a small town...

...I have a three minute commute to work. Sometimes I exaggerate for effect, but not this time. I have timed myself several times, and from the end of my driveway, to the staff parking lot behind the bank, it takes me exactly three minutes to drive to work.

This week went by quickly. I worked a full 37.5 hour work week. Gotta love banking hours. I've picked up this whole banking thing a lot quicker than I anticipated. Or, actually, the supervisors. I trained for only two days, instead of four, and now, I'm actually working with real money. Almost on my own. I just have a teller behind me, that I can ask questions when I get stuck on something. Like cashing in Savings Bonds, or something like that...

Of course, now that I'm making money, I'm getting some subtle hints that maybe Olivia and I should get our own place. Like the other day, when the local paper came out, my dad had it opened to the classified section. He casually pointed out, "Oh, look...apartments for rent."

Ok, not so subtle...