The Santillian Triplets

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Boss in the Bedsheets

Mr. Santillian,

Despite the fact I’m currently living out of your guest room and sleeping with you most nights, I am writing to announce my resignation effective two weeks from today. 

In other words, I’ll locate someone who is both obscenely overqualified and willing to devote their days to the handful of tasks you are able to wrench from your perfectionist, micromanaging grip. It may be difficult to find a Nobel laureate genius looking for basic filing work on such short notice, but I’ll do my best. 

Don’t worry about your sister’s wedding this weekend. I still plan to attend as your date, assuming you’ve finished hating me by then. 

Thank you in advance for your understanding. 

Zelda

Ms. Besh, 

Resignation not accepted. 

I’ll see you at home. 

Ash

The Magnolia Chronicles

My mother’s New Year’s resolution for me was simple: make a serious effort at putting myself out there and dating again, and do it for one full year. 

Or until I fell in love. Whichever came first. 

How hard could one year of swipes and matches and awkward first dates be? 

In a word: bad

In nine words: bad and also hilarious, demoralizing, exhausting, and ridiculously amusing. 

But the only thing worse than dating in the era of hookup apps and unsolicited dick pics is the absolute whole-life-flail of falling in love.

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