WTH is going on

Is Hannibal... in love with me?🐟

I’m at the executive management level for my very small company and I have 4 people who report directly to me. I am a nice boss. I’m friendly with my employees, I treat them like professional adults, I actively try to create a positive work environment, and I mentor them and make sure they’re advancing in their careers. I do my best to shield them from the rest of management doing stupid shit. My employees like working for me.

The other day one of my employees came to ask if she could change her hours on Mondays. I said yes immediately because it’s helpful for me to know when she’s here and when she’s not, but as long as she gets her work done I don’t care when and where she does it. She then proceeded to tell me that it was so she could attend therapy and like … I will never use this information but … as a general rule don’t fucking do that.

Do not tell your employer shit about your mental or physical health except for the bare minimum needed to request a reasonable accommodation. Even your nice boss can fire you, even your nice boss can unfairly change your working conditions, and even your nice boss at some point is probably going to face pressure from their superiors.

The Cerberusaurus

You are running away from everyone who loves you, from your family,  from old lovers, from friends. 

They run after you with accumulations  of a former life, copper earrings, plates of noodles, banners of many lost revolutions. 

You love to say the trees are naked now because it never happens  in your country. this is a mystery  from which you will never 

recover. And yes, the trees are naked now, everything that still breathes in them lies silent and stark  and waiting. You love October most

of all, how there is no word for so much splendor.  This, too, is a source of consolation. Between you and memory

everything is water. Names of the dead, or saints, or history.  There is a realm in which —no, forger it,

it’s still too early to make anyone understand. A man drives a stake through his own heart and afterwards the opposite of nostalgia