Anyway, back to this boss of mine:
He has vomited into my cleavage. More than once. He passes out all the time, often on top of me. The other day he licked my shoulder. He grabs my boobs whenever he gets the chance--other people's boobs, too; like Honey Badger, he don't care. He soils himself constantly and expects me to clean it up. He insists that I carry him everywhere. In the middle of a conversation he'll start crying. When he's not drinking or sleeping, he spends most of his time staring at lamps.
You know, I'm starting to think that he doesn't have much experience in upper management.
P. to the S., y'all: Any readers in the Brooklyn area should check out Momma C's art show at the 440 Gallery!It's called Imagined Light: Memories of Rome, and is on display through February 19.
It should be noted that in all of my 31 years she has not once pooped through her onesie and onto her bouncy seat. Some people are classy. Ahem.