Page 107 of Fun Together
“For the way I acted earlier when you asked me if I was okay.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“Still, I was being pouty,” she says, making a figure eight pattern across my chest with her fingertip.
I give her a little squeeze. “It’s okay.”
She moves her head to look up at me. “You seem tired, too. Everything okay with you?”
I didn’t think it was obvious, but I am exhausted. I’ve been staying late almost every day this week to get on top of my workload. It feels like no matter what I do, I can’t seem to get on track. The system we use for managing tasks is almost painful to use—there is so much information to input when we have a call with someone.
“Just some work stuff I’m dealing with. Trying to get into the swing of things.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, I just struggle with it sometimes. It can be hard for me to focus.”
“Is that what happened with your last job? The same trouble?”
“In a way, I guess. I have a hard time staying motivated. You know when youknowyou need to do something, but it just feels impossible for no good reason? That’s how that job was.”
“What do you mean, for no good reason?”
“I just dreaded going in to work. Like, more than usual. And then I started showing up later and later, and they were so old school, we had manual timecards.” I sigh, but the flood gates have opened, and I want—need—to get this out. “I lied on my timecard about when I was coming and going. They found out and fired me immediately. It was so embarrassing. I felt awful.”
I wait for her to gasp or express some kind of shock that I did this. Instead, she just holds onto me tighter and says, “I’m so sorry that happened.”
And I think that’s all I needed to hear. When I told my parents, they asked me what I was thinking, doing something like that. I told Andrew and he said nothing, but shook his head as if wondering how I could have fucked up that bad. IknewI fucked up and when I kept hearing it from everyone else, it made it that much worse.
“Why did you dread going in so much?”
I twirl a strand of her hair around my index finger before letting it unravel. “There’s a lot I like about what I do. That Ishouldlike about it. I do like talking to people about the kind of jobs they’re looking for and making those connections. But the whole office environment is something I have a hard time with.” I playfully give her a little shake and kiss the top of her head. “I think I like this job because I can see you every day as a distraction.”
She lifts herself up onto her elbow and looks at me with apprehension. “I don’t want to be a distraction.”
I wrap my arms around her and pull her back down. “Sorry, it’s not you that’s a distraction. It’s my own brain. I’ll figure it out.”
“Based on what I know of Melissa, she’d probably want to know if you’re struggling with something. Maybe you can talk to her about it.”
That’s not a bad idea. “I have a one-on-one meeting with her later this week so maybe I’ll bring it up. She’s kind of scary, though.”
She wraps an arm around me again, locking back into place. “You can win her over, I’m sure.”
We enjoy the silence for a bit, and I must doze off for a second because I’m startled awake by her saying, “The interview was kind of weird.”
So it was the interview, then. “Weird how?”
“Everyone was nice, but no one seemed engaged.”
That seems odd, because I got the impression they were looking forward to talking with her. “I wouldn’t read into that.”
“Yeah, I’m probably overanalyzing. They also got super sidetracked, wanting to talk about you.”
“About me? Why?”
“Mary, who really shouldn’t focus on anyone but herself and her shitty parking job, kept pressing me about details about us.”
“What details?”
