Last week I finally found a new job! I had been looking for one since the only promotion I received from my boss after two years of hard, unrewarding work, was from "secretary" to "personal assistant". I wasn't even sure what was so personal in my so called new position at the firm, but considering I was already making him coffee, ordering food and answering his phone, I don't think I wanted to know. The good news about this new job is that I will be working in my dream field, journalism. It would have been a pity to study it for more than four long years and don't even get a chance to practice it. So, starting last Monday, I am writing articles for a magazine for teenage girls. What could be so hard? I mean, I myself was a teenage girl not long time ago. Unfortunately, there is always a bad news linked to a good decision. Here's mine, on my first day at the office, I felt a lot more like a teenager than I would have imagined.
My new boss is actually my old high school crush. I would have called him "my high school sweetheart" but I'm not sure me stalking him and leaving what I thought were the best love poems in the world, in his locker, could count as dating. Anyway, I didn't stood a chance, he recognized me straight away and instead of a "Hi, I am Jared, we'll be working together!", I got a "Hey, freckled. What are you doing here?". And no, we didn't get a good laugh about what happened back then. That would have been too good to be true. He actually remembered my skills at writing love poems for him and asked me to be in charge of the "Heartbreak" section in the magazine. So here I am, 7 years after finishing high school, now searching and reading the best love poems online so I can find some inspiration for my articles. And I haven't even told you the worst part yet, he still looks hot, incredibly hot, and I still got butterflies in my stomach.
My new boss is actually my old high school crush. I would have called him "my high school sweetheart" but I'm not sure me stalking him and leaving what I thought were the best love poems in the world, in his locker, could count as dating. Anyway, I didn't stood a chance, he recognized me straight away and instead of a "Hi, I am Jared, we'll be working together!", I got a "Hey, freckled. What are you doing here?". And no, we didn't get a good laugh about what happened back then. That would have been too good to be true. He actually remembered my skills at writing love poems for him and asked me to be in charge of the "Heartbreak" section in the magazine. So here I am, 7 years after finishing high school, now searching and reading the best love poems online so I can find some inspiration for my articles. And I haven't even told you the worst part yet, he still looks hot, incredibly hot, and I still got butterflies in my stomach.