Something clicks

"Are you pregnant?"

"No."

"Well you are certainly eating like at your first trimester."

"Mom."

We were having dinner tonight at Citrus on the upper west side. Mom had heard about my situation and took me out to dinner to cheer me up, which she may have regretted.I was scarfing down shrimp dumplings, lump crab cake, Citrus roll, Dragon fireroll and all sorts of delicious goodness while mom looked on in horror.

"Do you have to be so mean?"

"I'm not being mean. I just pointing out that you are eating as if you you just came out of the Sudan."

"I am just really stressed."

"Well eating copious amounts of food isn't geoing to help. In fact it will just make it worse. I read in the LA times that fat actually secretes hormones that causes low levels of inflammation. That is probably the cause of hot flashes."

"That's nice to know mom."

Mom took a sip of her appletini and looked at me with a stony expression.

"If there is one I want you to learn from this whole job experience, it is perserverance. Life is going to pull some dirty tricks on you whether you deserve them or not. That is why it is called life. You can't simply drown your sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry's."

"I have not been drowing my sorrows in Ben and Jerry's."

"Princess, you have been using our Fresh Direct account and I know everything you have purchased."

"Alright."

"Honey. We are all proud of you. But you got to stick it out. I think you should call your boss and ask for help."

"No. He's a f**king bastard for what he did to me."

"He's supposed to be a f**king bastard, he's your boss. The boss is supposed to make
the unpopular decisions. That is what you have to do to get that title."

So here I am in front of my computer thinking about what my mother has said to me. Maybe I should call him. I don't know. I am still feeling sh***y about the whole thing. But mom is right. Simply gobbling down gourmet food won't help.