Page 2 of How to Deal

Bonus, right?

Yep. I’d like to think so too. Nothing like working with friends. Do you sense my sarcasm there? No really, I do enjoy working with them.

The downside?

The boss man’s son who sits across from me.

I’ll get to him later. We’re not there just yet.

Being an assistant has some downsides. You have to doeverythingand be willing to helpeveryone. Even employees who are not your boss. Maybe that’s where I got confused on my actual job title, but apparently, that’s what an administrative assistant does.

In reality—and from what I’ve come to understand—being an administrative assistant is a fancy title for “I’m your bitch and how do you like your fucking coffee?”

I make coffee runs for the office at least three times a day. Three. Who drinks that much coffee without getting an ulcer? Apparently,theseassholes who have me as their indentured servant do.

Before taking this job, I thought I had a problem with coffee addiction, but surely my dependence on caffeine is nothing compared to these jerk offs. And the specialty creamers they request, it’s like they think this is Starbucks. Sure, I can make you a triple espresso latte nonfat mochaccino. . . said no administrative assistant ever. What I really want to say is shove that latte up your ass, fuckface.

I’m tempted to offer an IV to them. At least if I did that, my feet wouldn’t hurt so badly, and I wouldn’t be tempted to spit into every cup of coffee I make.

Now here I am, six months into said job and thinking there’s gotta be better jobs out there for a college dropout.

But then again, I’m twenty-three with no idea what I want to do with myself past waking up each day. I leave messages on my answering machine to my dog for crying out loud.

Who does this?

All I know is making coffee for a bunch of lazy-ass construction company employees becomes less and less appealing with each passing week.

I wasn’t always on this never-ending path of intensiveness. In high school, I graduated with honors and had a steady boyfriend. My life was going perfectly. We both went to the same college together and had plans to get married after we graduated. Or maybe that was just in my plans because I’m not sure he felt the same way after high school. We only made it a few months into college and I found him cheating on me with some chick. I’ve since sworn off men. Who needs the added drama and heartbreak?

Not this chick.

The same month my ex ripped my heart out, my dad got sick and eventually passed away. He was all I had left besides a few aunts and uncles, so you can imagine where that left me. Wondering who I was and what I was doing with my life. And let’s not forget having a conversation with my dog over an answering machine.

I was like the crazy cat lady. Only I had a chocolate lab who shit and pissed everywhere and chewed my favorite heels.

After my dad passed away, I thought I would go back to school, but I still haven’t found what some would call a semblance of a life.

Instead, I’m here, taking notes at a meeting and pretending to give a shit about city projects, council meetings, and building permits when in reality, I want to slap myself that I didn’t do anything with my life after my dad passed.

---