This is a fictional story based on a compilation of true events. It is meant to be an entertaining glimpse into a typical day for a woman climbing the corporate ladder of motherhood … One baby step at a time.
It’s already been a long morning at work. My boss apparently had a fight with her teddy bear last night and did not sleep well, which, naturally, means that I am at the mercy of her frustrations.
Every item I have submitted for her perusal so far has been rejected with a grumpy look and an outburst of disapproval. The doll I handed her became an unfortunate casualty in a stroller collision fueled by her impatience with the layout of the office (a classic cluttered look which she designed herself).
And now, as I sit in her office for an impromptu meeting, I am unable to get any of my other urgent projects done because my boss decided she needs a milk break with her employee of the year. I wiggle around, trying to get comfortable on my unsupportive seat (namely, a thin rug on a wood floor) while my boss slurps away.
I discretely glance at the clock wondering if my boss would mind an early lunch break. We always eat lunch together and she often requests that I read to her while she feasts. I, meanwhile, shovel bites in quickly during page turns.
Attempting to ease her into the idea of ending her milk break early in favor of solid food, I begin to rise as casually as possible.
“Would you like some lunch?” I ask with an enthusiasm equal to that of a child visiting Disney World for the first time.
“Ma! Ma! Ma!” She protests insistently.
I sit back down on my sore butt with a defeated sigh. “Okay … We’ll have more milk first.”
Trying not to disturb her milk-drinking, I scooch toward one of my projects for the day, which consists of a pile of clean, wrinkled clothing. I begin attempting to fold the garments with one hand but give up after several failed folds.
Knowing my boss, I realize this milk break (which is more for socializing and enjoyment rather than nutritional purposes) could last another twenty minutes if I don’t get her motivated to focus on something else.
Knowing it may result in a dock in my paycheck, ten minutes later, I stand up again mid-slurp intending to placate my boss by letting her help with lunch preparations. Her dissatisfaction over the abrupt ending of the milk break is immediately obvious.
She hollars at me on the short walk to the breakroom, but I quickly enlist her strength for opening the fridge and distract her with the menu options. She is more than happy to choose the ingredients for our lunch – although I have to dissuade her from choosing Aleve tablets and cough syrup.
Once lunch is ready, I help her into her chair and we begin our meal. We are both quiet as we eat. While my boss is probably taking in everything around her to figure it all out, I am just too tired to make conversation.
When my boss abruptly declares that she is “Done!” with lunch, I know that my lunch break is over too. As I begin cleaning up her mess, she lets me know quite clearly that I have a deadline to meet – unfortunately, the deadline is thirty seconds ago.
She tries to push my hands away when I begin wiping the food off of her and I mentally flip though my repertoire of entertaining acts to perform as a distraction. Deciding her current intense dissatisfaction with me will be appeased by only one thing, I paste a super excited expression on my face, amplified by a gasp meant to instill suspense.
When my boss’s protests cease as her eyes focus on me with interest, I launch into my dancing, singing and tickling routine (my boss does not have the most sophisticated taste), successfully wiping her clean all the while.
By the time I have helped her out of her chair, I am also in a better mood because I have been awarded a bonus for my laborious efforts: Shrieks and giggles. Although my boss is very needy, she is also very generous with compensation.
She runs off to complete several important tasks which include sorting through and reading her books, taking a lid off of a cup and putting it back on over and over, and climbing up the slide – calling for me when she needs help getting down, of course.
I, meanwhile, hurry to accomplish some of my own tasks between the times when my assistance is required. I have just gotten my first dish unloaded from the dishwasher when my boss rushes in with an important document in her hand for me to review. Apparently, it requires my urgent attention.
Stooping down to my boss’s rather short level, I accept the document from her and glance at the title.
“The Very Hungry Caterpillar,” I read aloud. My boss opens the first page, indicating she would like me to continue reading while she examines the illustrations.
My boss is very smart, but she can be a little disorganized at times and often tries to flip between various pages while I’m in the middle of a sentence. Because of this, I am not certain if the caterpillar ate five oranges on Saturday or two plums on Tuesday.
At any rate, my fruit frustration seems to be of little consequence to my boss who happily runs off to find something new to work on. I return to my own work once again, hoping to finish unloading the remainder of the dishes before another interruption sidetracks my efforts.
Two dishes later, my boss excitedly runs into the breakroom, grabs my pant leg and begins to drag me into her office. I follow her lead, awkwardly waddling around her as she continues to hold onto my pants all the way to the window.
As I peer out the window, my expectation rises as I imagine what exciting spectacle we might see taking place in the street – a garbage truck taking our trash? A person walking a dog? Or perhaps the thrilling sight of a utility truck paying a visit to a neighbor?
At my inquisition, “What’s out there?” my boss responds with an informative, “Da!”
I look up and down the street, trying to determine the source of her enthusiasm but see nothing out of the ordinary. Deciding that whatever caught her attention is now gone, I sneak back to the breakroom while she is distracted cleaning the window with her tongue.
An hour later, I have gotten the dishwasher almost completely unloaded and my boss’s office has been partially cleaned up, and my boss is indicating that she needs a nap.
Me too, I think with a yawn. But I know that my work will continue as she snoozes. At least I will be able to finish something without worrying about interruptions.
Twenty minutes later I am proven wrong as I start to open the dishwasher to finish the unloading process when I hear my boss’s sleepy voice crying out for me from down the hall.
Deciding I will have to wait for the second favorite employee to arrive this evening before I will be able to accomplish any of my own work, I make my way down the hall to my boss’s nap room.
As I soothe her back to slumber, her beautiful and contended face makes the interruption seem more like another bonus.
This moment is a good and much needed reminder that my main job description is taking care of my boss. All of the other projects I attempt to complete each day are secondary priorities which I sometimes allow to distract me from my main career goals.
A few hours later, my boss wakes up to the sound of a door opening and closing. Immediately sitting up, she announces her second favorite employee’s arrival: “Dada!”
Quickly standing up from the chair in my boss’s nap room, I hurry to meet said employee in the hallway for the shift change so that I can finally relieve myself – something my boss does not often allow on the job without making her severe displeasure known.
After exchanging greetings and explaining that I need to clock out briefly for a bathroom break, I hand my boss off to employee number two and escape while I can.
During my few moments alone in the bathroom, I think with gratitude about how blessed I am to have my dream job, knowing that not everyone is able to have such a rewarding career as mine.
Yes, it can be challenging to be constantly working (it is literally a 24/7 job) to meet my boss’s incessant needs and sometimes loud demands. But she is also the sweetest and most loving boss I have ever had.
The excitement I see on her face when she is pleased with my work, the amazing sound of her laughter when I do something goofy, the peaceful sight of her leaning into me when I comfort her – these are my paychecks and they are the fattest paychecks I have ever seen.
As I head back toward the breakroom to finish the dishes, I hear my boss rambling away in my co-worker’s office. Changing directions, I realize it will be far more beneficial to collaborate with my boss and co-worker than to have a clean breakroom.
I enter my co-worker’s office and cannot stop the smile that quickly spreads across my face at one of my favorite scenes. As is a common habit for my boss, she is currently testing the work uniforms by traipsing around in my co-worker’s way-too-big shirt and shoes.
Laughter fills the office as my co-worker and I watch our boss adoringly. There is no doubt about it. No matter how many rough moments there are, I have the best job in the world.
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