Page 83 of Caught A Vibe

Two hours walking the scorching summer pavement in LA does little to calm me down. I circle my building in wide loops until I see that his car is gone.

When I get back inside, I funnel my anger into more rage cleaning. My kitchen counters are spotless, even under the toaster. The grout in my bathroom gleams thanks to his old toothbrush I found in the trash. Using it to bleach away every stain in my shower feels cathartic. I sweepandmop the floors for good measure. My couch blankets are carefully draped, and my throw pillows are floofed and chopped to within an inch of their lives. By the time I’ve ruthlessly restored order and erased any trace of his presence, my blood has cooled somewhat and there are no longer flames burning from the sides of my face.

With a calmer mind, I replay the morning. I can understand that he didn’t mean to harm me with the article. But he still did. I can understand that he didn’t mean to ignore the state of the apartment, but he did. I know I wasn’t in the best frame of mind to open the conversation, but I cannot regret what I said.

He might not have meant any of it, but it still happened, and it still sucked.

This is why I don’t leap before I look. This is why I approach life with a carefully constructed plan. When I don’t, utter chaos reigns.

Six months of my life, gone absolutely ass-backward. How many signs did I ignore because I was swept up? How could I let him into my life, into my company, just so he could use me for inspiration and hang me out to dry?

I keep going over the litany of his faults and reminding myself that I deserve better as I pace my apartment with a dust rag. Because there is part of me that wants to call him right now and apologize. Part of me that is afraid I just fucked up, big-time. The part of me that can’t believe he actually left so quietly.

Well, that part of me can just shut up. I am a ruthless, badass, driven lady boss. I will get my approval on my own terms. The traits that make me a great CEO are the same ones I’ll use to protect my heart. I will turn that energy back toward my work where it belongs.

As I look around my clean and tidy apartment with satisfaction, a calmness settles in my chest. I hadn’t realized how much anxiety I was carrying about the disorder in my space for weeks until it was gone.

Riding the wave, I sit down and make a list of all the things I need to do that I’ve been slacking on. I could be sending more emails, making more calls, researching STEM grants for women. I really need to do a walk-through of the warehouse to see just how dire things are, and then maybe I can send Emmie my ideas for the MiO version two and some other things I’ve been noodling. I wonder if an analysis of department duties could turn up new areas for efficiency that I might’ve missed. I’ve got users to interview… Ooh, interviews! Maybe I could reach out to the people who had me on their shows to do a follow-up piece and turn the tide.

Feeling more steady, I pick up my phone and dial. Nicola answers on the first ring.

“You okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine. It’s over. I kicked him out. Things can get back to normal now,” I say, proud that my voice doesn’t even waver.

“Wait, what?” Nicola’s incredulity surprises me.

“I told him to pack his bags. We’re through.” Why is she so surprised? She’s usually the first to agree with me when I break things off with a partner. I lean back in my chair and contemplate getting a cup of coffee for this conversation. But that would require me to make coffee and that just feels like too much in this moment.

“Penny, don’t you think that’s a little rash? I mean, rip him a new one, but I thought you really liked him…”

“I did. I do. But I can’t live like this. Little things have been piling up for weeks, and I’ve either been picking up the slack or letting him distract me with sex. It wasn’t working, and now he torpedoes my company and says, ‘Oops. Sorry. I didn’t think about that.’ No matter how good he is at melting my bones, I don’t have room for his kind of chaos in my life right now.”

Nicola mutters something.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Good. Bring me up to speed on the meeting. I have a whole list of things I want to address now that I have my head on straight.” I pull my list in front of me, ready to get lost in work.

“Penny. Stop. You are spinning in circles and the rest of us are getting dizzy!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you need to let us do our jobs. You are so panicked about the company that you’re doing that thing you do where you try to control everything by doing it all yourself.”

“I am not.”

“Bullshit. Do you remember when we broke up?”

“Yes, you said you needed space and that you thought we’d be better as friends since you were going to study abroad in Spain the next semester.”

“I remember you researching my program, building sightseeing maps for efficiency and daily schedules for my free time. I remember you wanting to color-code my packing list. You were spiraling because I was leaving, and I couldn’t watch you do that. And I couldn’t let you control my big adventure. I would have resented the hell out of it. I loved you, so I let you go.”

“You…what? Wait a minute…”

“We are definitely better as friends and colleagues, but you are doing it again. You’re trying to control what you can’t because you’re scared. Do you trust us to do our jobs?”

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