Welcome to Envy Park

Should Have Said This and That

Yes, I moved back home because I'm so enthusiastic about the economy and my career options here.

Should have said that.

It wasn't a lie. I just didn't think of it at the time.

I thought an energetic swim would get my mind off this, but I was still me, so I kept reliving that conversation with Jonas and rewriting it in my head.

Matilda waved at me from the shade. I waved back but didn't feel like talking, so I gestured about having to go.

Back in my apartment, I cleaned again. Took out the trash. Made pineapple jam and set it out to cool in the little jars I was using as glasses. I scrubbed my bathroom tiles.

I don't mind working from the ground up again.

I napped at five pm and had a dream about the interview. So annoying. Roxie had called and sent messages during that time, but I didn't return them. I woke up four hours later and headed to the gym for my run, still annoyed.

A downside of my stint abroad is my career has plateaued but I don't mind paying my dues and earning my spot on the corporate ladder again.

I set my treadmill program to include a sprint, and I was running my rage out within minutes. So many things I could have said! I was usually so much better at job interviews than that. I should have practiced. Roxie scheduled this too soon; I wasn't ready.

When the thirty-minute program ended I started it up again, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to beat myself up some more. And I sprinted.

Eventually I became aware of him, of course Ethan, sitting on the bench usually used by the people lifting weights. Except he was still in his standard office outfit and was just looking straight ahead, at his reflection on the huge mirrored wall I was facing.

“Oh my god,” I said. “How long have you been there?”

“Middle of your sprint.”

“My first or my second?”

“I didn’t see your first. Why are you angry?”

“Oh my god. You should have said something.”

“You were obviously deep in thought. Do you want to go out and get something?”

“But you haven’t started yet.”

Ethan shifted his legs, bringing his feet and his leather shoes closer to the bench. “I don’t work out every day. Just so you know. What do you want to eat?”

“Meat,” I said, pouting. “And onions. Something really obnoxious and smelly.”

We ended up at the kebab place, right in the business park. They served crazy large sticks of grilled meat with onions, tomatoes and cucumbers. I told him about the interview as we worked on dividing the meat from the single skewer we ordered.

“So. I screwed up, didn’t I?” I said.

He shrugged. “You didn’t want the job to begin with.”

“But I needed it.”

“You say you do.”

“I just really have a problem with saying things the right way, you know. It’s like there’s a version in my head, and maybe it’s not the right thing to say.”

“But it’s the truth, isn’t it? Why would it not be the right thing? I mean, ultimately.”

“Because it doesn’t get me what I want. If I just told people what they wanted, I’d get what I needed, arggg.”