By the Letter

Five: Home

Well that’s not very fair. I haven’t been able to have a proper conversation with you face-to-face that didn’t go something like, “Hello, please take my order.” I don’t want you to think this is my ranting corner, not when it took me so long to introduce myself as more than a regular at the coffee shop.

Let’s just say I had a rough week last time, my boss both micromanaging and throwing me under the bus, all in the course of a single day. That day I waltzed in soaked to the bone with their papers under my coat? I got a reprimand for bending the documents a bit, despite having run in the rain for a good ten minutes to not be late. I’ve been doing this for three years and I still don’t know where I stand: am I in charge of their affairs as a proper assistant or am I simply a peon? To be fair, I’d rather be a peon than in this nebulous position where I have so many responsibilities but no power of decision.

Would you laugh if the last book I read was a self-help one? Sometimes you just need a pick-me-up and I thought reading about horrible bosses and workplace environments would shed some light on my current position. Do you know if your former coffee shop is looking for a lackey?

To make matters worse, I had to renegotiate my rent lease this month and let’s just say I was duped in order to simply stay where I’ve been living for the past year. I will admit, I make just enough to pay rent without the help of a roommate and I appreciate my independence and solitude, but now might be time to start branching out and actually let someone help me for once. My book did say something about letting yourself be in a position so others can help you so…here goes my first step.

Perhaps that’s why I’m reluctant to leave home: it would be too independent of me to actually go and live in a different place. I’m already weirded out each time we have a family vacation despite knowing I’ll be going back home in a matter of days, my head actually spins whenever I envision myself actually existing in a place other than Boston.

It’s your turn now: please tell me more about yourself, even if you won’t let me know your actual name. “Edda” sounds like nothing I’ve heard before so I guess it’ll take me a while to actually try and guess what it stands for.

P.S. Thank you for the free drink, though I was rather hoping I could’ve chosen the order myself and not be handed a chai tea from a very disgruntled employee.

tell me about ridiculous bosses. our manager once called a meeting to let us know he was not to be disturbed under any circumstance only to suspend for a week a coworker who didn’t think to call on him when a customer complained about her order being “too sweet” after adding like three packets of sugar (apparently, it shouldn’t be “that sweet” after adding sugar…talk about being picky).

i hope your book was of the “for dummies” variety, i could use a good laugh. but hey, we all find comfort and strength in different things. i know i used to leave work so frustrated i actually sought out death metal now and then to take my frustration out on something, even if that something was my ears.

right now i’m simply trying to enjoy being back home. i don’t have to work for a living anymore as a starving university student so i get to wander around and take in all the sights for the first time all over again. i understand what you mean: my head is still reeling from not being in Boston despite having come back nearly a month ago. i still wake up in the mornings and take a moment to remember where i am, like my spirit is back in Boston and it flies across the world to catch up with my body here in Sydney.

more about me: there’s not much to say. i have strong arms after working in a coffee shop, i know now how much tolerance i have for customers’ bullshit before self-imploding behind the register (spoiler: it’s not much but when you’re living off tips you truly need to find a happy place). i don’t think you ever saw me upset at the shop but i like to think i can keep a cool face for our not-so-terrible customers.

my dad’s happy that i’m back. he’s usually up early in the mornings but for weeks now he seems to have taken a liking to it and is up at dawn just making large family breakfasts (well, large enough for two). i forgot how nice it was to be with him, as much as i preach about leaving home. it’s a strange feeling: i loved my roommates but i’ve been with my dad since birth, i know how he breathes and moves around the house. we orbit around each other in a familiar pace so now that i’ve come home, nothing seems to have changed. i did experience a bit of a shock when i first moved to Boston: i realized my roommates are actual different people from my dad and it took a while to get used to moving in the same space as them.

you’ll never guess what Edda stands for so i’ll keep my secrets for a while longer. take care and find yourself a hobby, mate!

p.s. i thought tea would help you out. watch out for standing in the rain too long, i heard there’s a bug going around and it would do you no good getting sick.

Mika is a Mexican writer and translator, pretender, pet-lover, and a mess at 1 in the morning.