Mine's Not a High Horse

Hmmm.... okay, so last week was odd.

And... don't you hate it when you're all mad at someone and then they do something for you, and it makes you feel so guilty for ever being mad, yet you kinda wish they hadn't?

I had done a lot more bitching in the last post, about work and stuff, but then decided to edit that out because I kinda felt guilty talking about the boss (but in the future, if I do talk about him - let's just call him "BM" for Boss-man or something. Heh.) Now I'm not sure if I'm glad I edited it or not, cause now you might not see my complete side and how frustrated and hurt I was. But basically, it was some things that he said that just made me feel really small and worthless. It doesn't help that I'm feeling like that a lot anyway, so it was just not what I had needed or deserved to hear at the time. But, as you have to do sometimes, I was just gonna let it go and not whine about it at work.

Well, on Friday when BM returned from lunch (drinks with friends), he was all "You need to cheer up, damnit!" and he had a plan. So he sets down 2 chilled premium malt beverages on my desk and tells me to go on and drink one. Ummm, is this a test? I laugh sort of nervously. I thank him for his thoughtfulness and say that I'll wait to drink them when I get home. "Oh, c'mon" he insists, giving me that don't-be-a-wuss kind of look. "Lemme tell you what, you're gonna drink that right now..." he sits and thumbs through his wallet, then throws $5 on my desk "...and then, you're gonna go up the street to the tanner and get some of that... what the fuck, those UV rays that cheer you up. You need the sunlight." I'm caught off guard and of course my natural response is to smile but shake my head "really, that's so nice of you... but I'm okay - I don't need to go right now or anything." He shakes his head "nope. I insist. You've been so crabby and depressed lately. Finish your drink, go, and then come back and drink the other one." This is all really odd to me. I feel as if I can't be a spoilsport though, and know there's no use arguing. Although, I do mention that I'm a lightweight and maybe I shouldn't drive, after I finish my lime flavored malt beverage with a slight shudder. "After one drink? That's like a beer. You're fine. Go on, go!" he orders, waving me away.

So I went. And it's true, I probably wouldn't have talked myself into going later. Unprepared and extremely pale, I just laid in the tanning bed in my bra & panties for 7 minutes. I did have sort of a buzz at that point, which made it easier to relax. I might even consider going a few more times on my own, just to get a little color and look a bit more alive - even though I had come to accept my paleness in favor of keeping my skin healthy. It didn't do a whole lot, there's just a splash of pink between my boobs and you can see the faint outline of my bra. I mostly just liked soaking up some heat, as I am one that's always cold. But still, weird.

I went back to work and thanked him, feeling a bit awkward. I don't want to sound like a brat, because I do appreciate the little niceties from BM. I know there are lots of bosses that wouldn't give the time of day for something like that. But, I'd kind of like a different kind of nicety though, like in the way of respect?
The whole thing just kind of reminded me of the newly divorced dad syndrome that I encountered as a child. He won't say he's sorry if he's made you cry, and he doesn't want to listen to what's wrong, but he will take you miniature golfing and let you pick Lucky Charms or Fruity Pebbles at the grocery store, like your mother never would.