worried

chapter 2

Note: Sorry for the delay with this update!! I've been thinking really hard about the way I want this story to go, and while I planned it out and wrote a great deal of it in NaNoWriMo, I also keep changing my mind about the way we get there. Beginnings are hard! But I feel pretty okayish about where I'm at, so our "Worried Wednesdays" should be commencing regularly soon. Perhaps bi-weekly for now, while I work out the kinks.

Anyway, let's go!

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One thing you should know about me is that I'm a numbers man, through and through. I came to be aware of this fact at the ripe age of eight by way of the one-paged multiplication tests my teacher passed out to us each morning. It was just a small practice to keep us sharp; wasn't even graded or anything. But for the overachievers –– it was a competition. An absolute paragon of the inherent, gifted value you brought to this earth. I was always a pretty shy kid, never wanted to draw too much attention to myself, and yet even I wasn't immune to the allure. I took immense pride in being first to slap my paper down on the desk, face down, test complete. I loved all the eyes on me, all the weak staccato slaps of subsequent tests, slaps of defeat... From then on, I knew where I was comfortable. I knew where my strengths lied. (Laid? Who knows –– I mean, I'm not a words man. I'm a numbers one!)

It felt fitting, then, to take an accounting job at The Company. Billings, payrolls, budget management... All pretty tedious, but I didn't mind work like that. The kind you can really fall into. Methodical stuff. Plus, it'd be pretty nice to get paid for something I was good at for a while before I find my real calling. That's what my parents kept saying: Work for a big company, meet people from different sectors, pivot, work your way up the ladder. All that jazz.

So when the position opened, I snatched it up. It only took one interview with Louie, my boss-to-be, before I got a call with the offer. Sweet, I thought. Beginner's luck.

In hindsight, this probably should've been my first inkling to run.

Within the following months I would become aware of the fact that the turnover for my position is much, much higher than the other accounting teams. Before I showed up, Louis had cycled through roughly five different junior accountants working in the last three years, and two of them even left without another job lined up. (Per their Linkedin pages, they became freelance accountants for a few months before finally getting a set position. So. Do the math.) It hadn't been very apparent why this was the case when working remotely, since I had nothing to compare my experience to, but once we got to the office I quickly noticed the discrepancies.

See, the other junior accountants in the department are only asked to do –– and this might be a little mind-blowing –– their jobs. The payroll management. The budget tracking. Actual accounting and nothing else. But I'm not sure my boss even realizes that this is the standard. Hell, I'm not sure he even realizes I'm responsible for any accounting at all, and that my job title isn't assistant, what with the sheer amount of scheduling, booking, and various odd tasks he has me doing for him. It's not even work-related stuff, either. It'll be nine PM on a Saturday and Louie will call me asking why his personal credit card doesn't work, and what am I gonna do about it so he can buy dinner? He has me emailing his yoga instructor, pleading for refunds on the class he decided to cancel last minute. This year I am legitimately coordinating his family's entire Christmas vacation to Italy. Gondola rentals and wine tours included.

The worst part of all is that I'm not even good at shit like this. I wasn't built for shit like this. I'm a numbers man, dammit! I'm horrible at making phone calls, and managing schedules, and keeping things organized. I can barely do it for myself!

I'm surprised that Louie hasn't already fired me just as much as I'm surprised that I haven't already quit. But then again, I can't find another gig, and Louie can't bear to train another person to memorize his personal schedule. So for the time being, we're stuck with each other.