A Sweet Voice

There is a time that there will be a sweet-talker in your life. They will call you “honey,” “sweetie,” “love,” and you will feel a tinge of comfort. However, I usually feel uncomfortable if someone who is not my grandmother has calls me any of those things. I hate these words in the professional setting.

I recently got a side job and hated it. I put no work into it and just got off a phone call about my lack of efforts. Boss lady was no longer using “love” to talk to me. When the phone call ended, I felt like she should have expected this terrible behavior from me. Her business is disorganized and I felt like the office girls looked down on me. She was the only nice person. I don’t feel as bad as I normally would. They didn’t even pay me on time nor did they know where I lived. I spent so much money to get into this job and I barely broke even when I left. I have never felt more like a person on strings slapped with sweet talk. I need out of this game.

It is what it is.



It has been a while since I was able to get an interview. I spent a good chunk of time researching the company and studying on how to give interview responses. I was in the room for less than five-minutes before she told me that I was “overqualified.” That was a load of bull because she meant that I was too expensive. I am pretty sure she wanted a single person to do both Admin Assisting and Social Media crap for like $14/hr. I didn’t ask. I don’t think I wanted to ask how much she wanted for this job. I am supposed to be moving up and she seemed so big in her head that she was willing to waste my time. All the prep in trying to get this job- wasted. All the ideas on how to help this person increase her social media traffic- wasted. All the time I spent worrying if I was going to do great and at least feel like I had a chance at this job- wasted. The office was small and eerily quiet. The CEO seemed busy and concerned about herself. A dog ran out of her office and she practically yelled at me to not touch it because it was a rescue. My hand wasn’t even near this allergy machine. I guess employers don’t have any courtesy when it comes to people who travel a long distance, take their work day off just to travel somewhere to only be asked one question: How much do you want? And dismiss instead of telling the truth which is that they want someone to be cheap and do the most work………

Note to self: This learning experience has taught me that I should ask for how much the position is, if it is not listed online. I would prevent a whole day of lost wages, disappointment and lowered confidence.

Ice Cream & Control

It wasn’t love. It was something else. It was that false sense of hope. A false wonderful. You were too fast and too blind. When I spoke you barely listened.

And yet I miss something about you.

Your taste was not the best. Nor your smell. Your mind didn’t always make sense. Your fingernails were down to the nubs and you had tinnitus. You had a leg condition and you were a smoker. You spoke like your religion was better than everything else in the world. You didn’t have the best eating habits.

There was something that I liked.

I knew that you questioned things, but I let it go. I didn’t see the harm in taking the time to savor the moment. You were weak and you couldn’t control your body well. Especially your mouth and hands.

I miss your company.

I questioned if those were lies or what you truly believed. I had put a lot on the line to see you. You told me an intimate feeling reserved for someone you should know better. But I ignored it.

Why did you say that?

I don’t have to deal with this ideal life that you want to lead. I guess I was just jealous of your childhood but that’s it. You couldn’t even break up with me like a man. Yet, you do everything else so easily.

I am upset and angry.

I told you my insecurities. I told you my doubts. But you didn’t listen to them. Just what your member was feeling in the moment. I feel a bit betrayed. A bit hollow. A bit relieved. A bit of sorrow. But I know that the life you want isn’t what I want. There is no compromise with this. With me. You were being an idiot. You said so yourself. I agree.


The only thing I will miss is that how you made the feeling of suicide go away. Like I somehow had a new found purpose, a meaning.  Like I wasn’t going to be alone anymore. Like maybe I had a partner to deal with life and its many mysteries. To journey on and find what I am good at. Someone to support me and to hold my hand when the anxiety overcomes me. Say, “Shhh… you will be fine. Here’s a suggestion…” And to just sit quietly next to me. Perfectly in sync, without doing much but breathing…

You were not right for me.