When you do a social media post

When you do a social media post, you do not expect your boss to read it. But that’s what happened to me.

I wrote a post, my boss read it and fired me.

It was just a rant stemming from severe sleep deprivation and perplexity at how exhausted tiny humans can leave you.

I tried to explain. I didn’t really mean what I’d written about how hard it was to go back to work mere months after birthing a child. I might have also said I hated my job (I deleted the post while pleading for my job, so I can’t confirm this, but still…).

As if collecting evidence in a criminal case or something like that, she had screen grabbed the post – the whole thing! Can I just say how uncalled for and petty that was!

But I did say some things about the job. I’m not really sorry because I wasn’t lying, I just didn’t foresee this outcome. Now I have to live with the consequence of my decision to rant in a sleep-deprived, perplexed state.

I’d thought the most difficult part would have been coming home to a husband who had warned me countless times about my mouth.

“Think before you speak”, he would say.

“I think before I speak”, I always argue back.

After that one time I told the pastor’s wife that she talked too much during women’s meetings, we came up with a plan to wait a while before saying what comes to my mind.

It didn’t take too long to realize we needed another plan.

It’s not like I don’t see his point about putting a filter over my words, it’s just really hard to do sometimes. Add a newborn who keeps you up all day, every day to the mix and you’d be needing a miracle….

Like we do right now.


Even with both of us working, we were barely able to keep our heads above water. Now it was nearly impossible.

He worked endless hours, while I sent out job applications and tried to start an online business.

We had this plan on paper that turned out completely different in real life, mostly because babies need a lot of things and these things cost a lot of money (Ok, maybe not really, but we’re blaming the baby this time).

Time passed, and still, nothing turned out like we planned.

And I got tired of filling out applications.

I tried every business I heard I could do from home, but for some reason, nothing ever happened for me like the advertisements promised.

And sleep was still elusive.

After endless visits and doing my best to help him see my plight, the doctor finally recommended some pills to help me sleep. I was supposed to take them only as prescribed.

“Do you understand me?” he had asked, probably because I’d been as excited as a child in a candy shop. I know it doesn’t sound right to be excited about something like that, but I’d heard all these things about how helpful these pills could be.

When I nodded, trying but failing woefully at hiding my excitement, he added, “You abuse these, and we’d stop”.

“Yes sir”, I said, taking the prescription. I left his office looking forward to at least seven hours of sleep.

It would be the first time in a long time, and it wasn’t because of the baby. I just could no longer sleep and we didn’t know why.

We tried everything….

Drink warm milk.

Count numbers.

Read books.

Listen to audiobooks.


Read the Bible.

Essential oils….

Again, nothing had worked for me like the advertisements had promised.

This is a fictional piece, excerpted from “Sincerely, Mother”.