Boss-Man

I'm pretty sure I have the best boss ever. He bought me a car after three months with the company so I wouldn't have to take the bus. He kissed me on the forehead on my birthday and told me I have "many more years to destroy my body." He (and my other boss) bought me a beautiful bouquet of flowers on my birthday. Whenever he can see that I'm stressing out, he asks how I'm doing. And just now? He saw that dazed look on my face again and asked.

See, I had just (a moment before) realized that I'm twenty-two and still living with my folks, without any real idea of when I'm leaving. And hey, even if I do get into grad school (there's a whole 'nother set of anxieties) and go next fall, what about when I'm done there? No marketable skills really come of a master's degree in history -- and then I'll be twenty-FOUR and living with my parents.

So the Boss-Man, he asks, and I tell him and, without a pause, he says, "if there's anything we can do to help you, let me know." And not in that insincere way a lot of people would say that -- he meant, "if you need help finding a place and making rent, let's talk." I mean, this guy, he doesn't just SAY things, he DOES things. He gets thing done. And he's wonderful.

Yeah, I'm living at home at the age of twenty-two and I'm scared and feel a bit useless and I'm spending too much time and money on my addictions and my self-loathing is through the roof and people breathe too close to me, but I have an incredible boss. And he's very nice to look at, too.