Job that Only Paid the Bills
Janet Kuypers
2/12/17
I told my boyfriend
on one spring day
that I was quitting my job.
This art director, supervised
maybe eight people, designed
two magazines — this was a big thing,
me quitting my well-paying job
that only paid the bills,
and didn’t make me happy.
And when the big day came,
I opened the windows to my
32nd storey corner office
and I asked my supervisor
to come into my office.
The wind whistled through the Loop
on these downtown streets —
it was always a breathtaking view,
seeing skyscrapers in the spring.
But my supervisor sat down at my desk,
and before I could break the news
there was a knock on my door.
When I said to come in,
the secretary walked in
with a dozen roses in a vase
as a delivery to me.
I said thank you, and as she
closed the door I looked
at my supervisor, but looking
at the roses, he already knew
the news. I didn’t know
I’d get roses, and it kind of
blew my chance to say I quit,
but it was kind of cool
to get roses on a spring day
for putting in my two-week notice.
At the time, I couldn’t think
of a better reason to get roses,
it was like icing on my liberation cake.
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