My schedule promised a marathon. Starting strong, my trainer pushed my outer limits. The nutritionist questioned the candy bar breakfast I inhaled while consulting the laundry service and the hack who called herself a housekeeper.

The stylist sneered at my messy ponytail, baggy tee-shirt, and leggings. “You can do better,” she said as I rushed to rouse groggy children. The crisis negotiator morphed into the childcare specialist, reminding me of the lessons with the student-teacher.

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