I don't get it. Someone is trying to buy out a one woman cleaning business?" "Yes, and as your accountant I have to suggest you at least take the offer seriously. What is your long-term plan? Clean until you can't clean anymore?" "Jerry, I'm barely thirty..." "Thirty-two," Jerry interrupted. Cyndi glanced up, "Right, thrity-two, thank you for the reminder," she rolled her eyes at him "but it's not like I'm sixty-five and peering down the barrel of retirement." "No, you're right, you're not. It's just, what's your plan? If you take this offer, you can sell out of the business, have a nice little nest egg for yourself and, I don't know, go work for some nice company for the next 20 years and then retire." "Jerry! Have you not been paying attention? I'm a corporate refugee. I don't want to work for some nice company, or a horrible one either. In fact, by definition I think they're all horrible. So...no. The answer is no." "But..." "And another thing, why does anyone even want to consider buying a modestly successful cleaning company run by one woman and her cat?" "Your cat?" "Yes, my cat, she's got a very important job, she's on the board." "Really?" "No, not really, she's a cat." "Oh, ok, because I was wondering..." "Yes, Jerry, I know you were.
