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people when they come in. I think I’ll call a couple of these."
    Rose wished her luck and left. Anna called the numbers listed and made appointments for the following afternoon, then showered and dressed. After a good deal of consideration, she finally decided on her green herringbone tweed skirt and the white silky blouse with the big bow. She combed her short, blond hair as best she could. Without question, it needed trimming. But she couldn’t afford it. And that was that. She set off.
    The first address turned out to be a lawyer’s office. She filled out the application and gave it to the secretary. When the older woman read through it, she looked up and shook her head.
    Anna tensed and slid forward to the edge of her chair. "Is there something wrong with my application?"
    "It says here you don’t type or file or take dictation."
    "Yes, right, but it said the job was for a receptionist, not a secretary."
    "It is. The duties also include filing and typing from a Dictaphone. We require a typing speed of 60 words per minute from all applicants."
    Anna’s stomach fell. She’d never done anything but hunt and peck to type the occasional term paper. "I have three years of college. Doesn’t that help?"
    "I’m sorry. You don’t have the skills we require."
    Anna thought of the other interviews she’d lined up for receptionist jobs. Licking her dry lips, she asked, "Ah, do most receptionist jobs require typing and filing?"
    "I’m afraid so. You see, with many firms cutting back, most receptionists have to take on some secretarial duties. You might get lucky but I doubt it." She smiled in sympathy. "I’m sorry."
    With a sinking feeling, Anna nodded and left. The next address was an accounting firm and she got the same answer there. She was ready to give up but, since she’d already made the appointments, she decided to keep going in case she got lucky.
    When the final address turned out to be a plumbing supply store, she thought maybe at last she’d found a place which wouldn’t need a fast typist. She was right, they didn’t. However, they needed someone with bookkeeping experience to take over when everyone else was busy. She hadn’t even handled the family budget at home. She returned to her house, tired and discouraged.
    Sunday came, with its fatter paper and expanded ‘help wanted’ section, and Anna opened the evening newspaper to more closely study the ads that didn't run during the week. She wasn’t expecting much.
    "Let’s see," she murmured. "There must be something here. ‘AAA, Cab drivers,’ no good. ‘Accountant, experienced,’ nope. ‘Auto Mechanic.’ Yecch, I can’t even fix my own car. ‘Babysitter.’ I could watch kids while their mothers worked, but I bet it would pay next to nothing.”
    She kept looking. “‘Bookkeeper,’ no. ‘Bus driver,’ ‘Emergency Medical Technician, must have degree.’ Too bad.” She scanned the rest with mounting frustration. Nurse, Real Estate—experienced only, Respiratory Therapist, Roofer. What a laugh . Sales Rep, must be willing to travel. Teacher, Typist. None of the above.
    She threw down the paper in disgust. "Damn it. Everybody wants skills I don’t have or experience I can’t get, or an education I can’t afford. I'm going to try the internet."
    Mallory came downstairs when Anna called for her, and explained how to find ‘monster.com’ and others and how to fill out the profiles. Mallory told her that the New York Job Service had a website. Anna appreciated the help, even if her daughter had been a little condescending about her lack of internet skills.
    Several hours later she'd found two listings she thought were worth a try. She’d go fill out applications with them tomorrow.
    Thinking back to her college days, Anna remembered her wonderful evenings with William Wordsworth and Charles Dickens and William Blake. Fat lot of good they were doing her bank account right now. She should have gone for something more mundane like