My asshole boss had fired me, and I’d fallen in a funk. No one blamed me. Josh certainly didn’t. But there comes a point in any funk where enough is enough. Josh seemed to think that time had arrived.

He tried to cajole me out of my bad mood. Making me laugh. Making me dinner. Taking me to the movies and my favorite bookstore.

When none of it worked, he went ahead and did what had to be done.

He came home from work and kicked off his shoes. He reached down, tugged off his socks and tossed them on the sofa. It drove me crazy when he did that, which was more often than I’d like to admit.

I felt myself scowling at him and hated myself for it immediately.  It was petty, really. But I couldn’t help it.

While I was scolding myself for being a fired loser who... Read More