Working Like This Is Alien To Me

(I’ve been working with my district manager on a massive project to change the layout of my store. I’m about three months pregnant, suffering a serious case of “baby brain,” and I lovingly refer to the baby as “my alien,” as we don’t know its sex yet. It’s early in the morning, and my DM and I are texting back and forth. I have just made a mistake.)

District Manager: “You’re killing me. It’s too early for this.”

Me: “I know, I’m sorry. I should probably send myself home for stupidity.”

District Manager: “Nope. You actually have to work extra today.”

Me: “But… But… my alien might make me break the store!”

District Manager: “Exactly, then they’d have to remodel. Have a good day.”