I'm still Alive and Well...and Embarrassing Myself

I first wanted to say, thank you.  Thank you for all your comments.  I read all of them and cried and then I read them all again and cried.  I feel so blessed to have you in my life.  I was again blessed to find employment so quickly and I have been working for the past month.  It hasn't been an easy adjustment for Ava and I still deal with every night her begging me not to go to work and every morning having to hold her while she cries and again begs me not to go.  Although it isn't easy, it is necessary and I'm trying to make the most of it.

Since last post was so heavy I thought I'd share an experience I had at work recently.  It was last week when I naively thought I'd seen the last of that white stuff called snow.  The place I work has a soda fountain in the break room.  I limit myself to one mug a day of the hard stuff.  Anyway I was at my desk working, sipping on my Coke when I needed to get up and ask my boss a question. 

I stroll over to his desk and explain the situation when I'm shocked to see snow falling from the sky.  Mid-sentence I exclaim, "Look it's snowing!" and point out the window.  My boss swivels in his chair and right then my hand clasps around his mug, although I think it's my mug, I take a long draw and expect the bitter sweet liquid to tickle my taste buds when I realize it's water.  Instantly I know I've made a fatal error.  I zoom the mug back down like a bandit just in time for him to swivel back around.  I realize that anyone who might have been observing the scene may have thought I purposefully tricked my boss.

I look at the straw and there is a pink lip gloss stain on it.  At this point I'm stuttering trying to explain what I had intended to explain all the while the color is rising up my neck and into my cheeks and I'm suddenly feeling hot and uncomfortable.  My mind is working about a million miles a minute.  Do I tell him?  Do I tell him?" I am mortified.   Then a very juvenile thought pops into my head, like when I was in middle school, if you shared a chap stick with a boy it was like kissing them.  I just kissed my boss.  The phrase echoes in my head and suddenly I want to laugh, to just get hysterical right there in front of the unsuspecting fool.  I just kissed my boss.  The tell-tale pink lip print silences my rising hysteria and I'm looking at my boss and he's looking at me and I realize he's stopped talking.  He explained what needed to be done and all I could think about was if he might have some contagious disease.  I smile weakly and march back to my desk. 

I should have told him.  What kind of a freak doesn't confess something like that?  He'll find out anyway when he takes a drink and tastes my strawberry flavored lip gloss.  Can I tell him now though?  He'll know I initially wasn't going to tell him.  While my mind becomes a whirling dervish and my underarms kick into overdrive I keep stealing glances at that mug of his.  It's like I'm afraid that straw is going to form lips like an object in Harry Potter that has been enchanted.  I imagine it yelling my guilt to the whole room.  "Shut-up straw," I mutter under my breath and continue on with my work.  I never told him, and there's this certain weirdness there now that I'm sure he senses.  One of these days I'll confess, if that blabber-mouth straw hasn't already.