Shhhh, it’s a secret

Every once in a while I have to go see my crazy former boss. Still hoarding, still crazy, still a wealthy and successful business owner. And when I can stand the insanity, she often has the connections for amazing parties. One used to be called chef’s night out or something, and you just walked around multiple floors with a plate and a wine glass and tried irresistible nibbles of the best restaurants in town, along with a fantastic winery selection. Yum, and interesting crowd too.

She’s such a unique woman, but also very challenging. I enjoy how differently she thinks, while appreciating that  by comparison she makes my crazy history seem vanilla and almost tepid. We can hang out, tell our stories, and laugh our asses off.When she’s not doing something completely inappropriate and socially mortifying.

So I didn’t tell her about the fire. I know exactly how she would react – the screams, the “I know what you need to do!!!” the hounding me forever if I don’t do what she suggests. I know she would completely freak out and get hysterical, telling me it would solve my financial problems, trying to convince me to do things that I don’t morally agree with. We have completely different views on some things, and this would be one of them. Even though she’s closer to me than my own mother, I’m never going to tell her. I certainly don’t need that kind of stress or someone telling me that I need to work the system better. She doesn’t understand that it’s not how I operate, nor is that about to change. So always and forever, shhhhhh, it’s a secret.

It’s A Secret – Style

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