Hating the Boss

by Kristen Granata

I’d reached my breaking point. Now I know why people call it that. You bend so much that you eventually break in half. Two parts: Who you once were, and the angry, resentful person you’ve become.

I envy the people who stop eating when they’re stressed. I’m an emotional eater. I eat my feelings, and unfortunately, they aren’t fat free. They taste a lot like Ben and Jerry’s.

We are the epitome of women in their thirties. It’s like we’re stuck in limbo: Too old to let loose the way we did in our twenties, but too young to feel content at home with a pair of knitting needles.

Girls physically cannot keep a secret from their besties. It’s a gene that’s missing from our DNA.