Awkward

I enter the room, leading with my hips. I don’t really walk across the office to my chair— I stalk. I prowl. I glide, with each movement promising a slow, torturous pleasure. Hot. Sensuous. I can feel the temperature in the chilly office rising by the second.

When I take my place in the chair across from his desk, I do so carefully, leaning back with an artful abandon and crossing my legs a la Sharon Stone in front of me. I throw my arms wide across the back of the seat, fingers toying playfully with the fabric.

“So,” I say, raising one hand to run my fingers through my hair, tousling it until it falls in sexy, messy waves around my shoulders. I glance at him from beneath my lashes, eyebrows raised. I give a sultry little laugh. “I bet you can’t guess what The Bean and I were doing two months ago.”

Yeah.

So.

Does anyone else have any better suggestions for breaking the news of my pregnancy to my boss?

I asked my stupid brain for ideas and that’s the only scenario it seems to come up with. I think it wants to torture me, because it knows how embarrassed I am about bringing up the subject. Seriously, how does one do this? There’s no polite way to lead into a conversation like that. “Oh, you want me to order you an extra box of pencils? Heh—- speaking of pencils…..”

Help me out guys. I’m drawing a complete blank here. I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad… except that no matter how I look at it, I am pretty much announcing to my conservative, Christian boss that The Bean and I were engaging in loud, sweaty hankypanky last April. How the heck do I go about doing that?

Do I tell him face to face? Do I go into his office, go over to his side of the desk and elbow him in his side, saying, “I’m going to need some time off in January, if you know what I mean. Nudge, nudge. Wink, Wink.”

What if I take the chicken way out and leave a note? How the heck do I word it?

“Dear Mr. Boss,

I’m pregnant.

We need to talk.”

What if his wife finds that? I’m thinking it wouldn’t go over too well.

The whole idea of blurting out my pregnancy suddenly seems beyond embarrassing. You’d think I’d be better at it since this is my second time in the land of the knocked-up. The problem is, last time I was so embarrassed to bring it up to anyone that… well… I didn’t.

Nope.

I told one or two people whoI knew loved to gossip, and I let them do all the dirty work.

Of course, that little method didn’t work so well for me in the end, know that I think about it.

Do you know what the definition of awkward is? Having your own father call you three weeks before you are due and asking you if the rumors of your pregnancy and new husband are true.

Awwwwkwwwwaaaaard.

Yeah.

I am the queen of procrastination. Just try and beat that.

Wait. On second thought, don’t try to beat it. Use your creative tendencies to try and help me come up with professional ways of breaking the news of this pregnancy. I obviously need all the help I can get.

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3 thoughts on “Awkward

  1. Here's my favorite:
    For this, you will need an accomplice who can keep a poker face, and you will need a bigtime gossiper.

    The accomplice says to the gossiper (preferably while grasping the hands of the gossiper in a breathlessly ecstatic manner), “Isn't it soooooooo wonderful about Becky?”

    And then the accomplice walks away without elaborating.

    The gossiper will be driven crazy, but will not want to ask you about your wonderful news, for fear that s/he is the Very. Last. To. Know.

    The rumour mill will kick into overdrive. Has Becky won another Pulizter? Has she inherited megabucks from that sugardaddy she dated in the 1980's? Or could she possibly be….well, you know, she has been puking a lot lately….???

    Eventually, the questions will reach your boss, who will either ask you or delegate somebody to do the asking. And then you're all set.

    Easy-peasy.

    Like

  2. Well, I don't know about your last paragraph, asking for both creative AND professional…that's tough.

    Could you just ask for a review/clarification of maternity leave policy? While seriously lacking the cachet of AareneX's suggestion, it does have simplicity.

    Like

  3. I say: when your boss is lurking about, sit at your desk with a honkin' huge bowl of ice cream. Smack self on head after one bite. Reach in to purse. Take out jar of pickles. Dip pickle in ice cream and suck on it, blissfully. And wait.

    Come on. You KNOW you're dying to do it…

    Like

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