Graduates in Wonderland Read Online Free

cable bill. So now I know what the mysterious four-­hour block in his calendar last week actually was....
    To pass the time and to make us feel better, Melanie and I fill out quizzes to identify psychopaths online, and answer them on Vince’s behalf. In case you were wondering, the answer is always yes . Although it seems like the answer would be yes for most bosses who are driven and narcissistic.
    And I still have to smile and chat with him, who for the record looks and smells like Tony Soprano would (a mixture of cigars and salami), and who says things like, “Who punched the holes in this report? It looks like a retard did it! Are you sure you went to Brown?” Whatever, Vince is a psychopath, and I have the test to prove it.
    It’s strange to have a job where if I can get a mug full of coffee to Vince’s desk, steaming hot, one minute before he arrives and slams his door, I’ve succeeded. I need to be invisible to be good at my job, which is hard when all we’ve ever been taught is the importance of standing out from the crowd.
    While I know my life isn’t great right now, I’ve had shitty jobs before and they never bothered me once I’d left for the day. I thought it was just my job, but while Melanie doesn’t like her job either, she seems happy in other aspects of her life. I feel like I’m in a rut I just can’t shake. Everything feels really gray right now.
    I struggle to get out of bed when I’m not in the office. And on the days when I do have to go to work, when I wait on the subway platform, I find myself growing anxious and tearing up. Everyone around me stares straight ahead. Even once we’re on the train and I’m crying on their shoulders (because, honestly, the C train is super crowded in the morning). Clearly, this is because it’s New York and I’m just as likely to stab them as to do anything else. But still. People! Help a Wisconsinite out. We’re so friendly!
    My anxiety grows as I near the office. Once I’m in and I’ve had my first contact with Vince, I’m anxious all day—­afraid of his beck and call and his inevitable criticism and fury. I count the hours until he leaves for the night and then I feel temporary relief, and then I make my way home at 8  P.M.
    But I can’t think of a better alternative to this. There’s either back at home with nothing to do or unemployed in China with you, probably also in love with Maxwell. I am at the bottom of a HOLE.
    Once I realized that this just wasn’t getting any better, I got the number of a therapist here from a family friend. I am not sure I see the point of this but I’m really hoping it will pull me out of my days spent staring fearfully into the void of Vince’s office and crying on the subway.
    I miss you more than you miss bagels.
    Love,
    Debbie Downer
    SEPTEMBER 21
    Jess to Rachel
    Did you know that if you dig that hole deep enough you’ll end up all the way in China?
    Sorry. I don’t know what to say. You know I’m a tough-­love kind of person. So I guess if I were in New York right now this is what I would do: I’d turn off that Simon and Garfunkel that I know you have on repeat, I’d drag your sorry ass out to eat something that isn’t frozen pizza (I know you too well), and we’d go to the movies so that you have a dark, warm place to sob your eyes out. It’s cathartic and more socially acceptable than crying on the subway. (Even as I write this, I am regretting this hypothetical promise because I am still traumatized from seeing The Notebook with you. No, really, fellow concerned audience members, she’s okay. No, she didn’t lose the love of her life to dementia. She just has a lot of feelings. Okay, I’ll tell her it’s just a movie.) And then we’d go out and eventually the night would end with us laughing on someone else’s front steps and being shushed by their