My mother always said I was more likely to dig my own grave than actually die a natural death because I would rush head first into things as a child.
I would show up to all kinds of things with wide eyes and excitement lacing my voice, eager to please as if I had been stoked.
That part of me had died as I became an adult but Art managed to awaken it yesterday.
And that was also why I was heading to Kevin’s office to explain myself even though Art promised to take care of it.
I am angry at myself and at him for something he clearly is a slave of just as I am, my self sabotage senses having kicked in.
I knock on the door to his office and enter when I hear a faint ‘come in’.
“ Kevin..” I greet anxiously, pulling his attention from the papers on his desk.
I wipe my sweaty hands agains
