Don't ever make your boss a cake

Gone forever? Not sure, but definitely need time to regain focus.

Photo by SLNC on Unsplash

Hi all. A few weeks ago, I stopped posting stories. I also paused all paid subscriptions through Substack and Patreon because I couldn't physically bring myself to write.

Sometimes, I look back at the number of articles and podcasts I used to put out in the eight years Boss Barista has been around, and I wonder where that energy went. I used to publish two stories a week, along with a full podcast. Realistically, that energy has been continually chipped away as life has become more expensive: I'm currently working a full-time job, a part-time job, and freelance work to make everything click.

It's not all survival (I guess) — I'm also getting older (I'm 38), so I'm paying more for things that I would have set aside as unimportant when I was younger, like regular checkups at the doctor and dentist and saving for retirement (last year was the first year I made the maximum contribution to a retirement account).

This year was the first time I had two dental cleanings (and then some: I had to undergo two periodontal deep cleanings that were extremely painful). I also had biopsies done on a growth in my neck (benign), and it just feels like the boundless energy I once had to work all the time and get everything done is being eaten away by simply trying to exist. I know I’m not alone in this feeling.

(Also, I’m vain and this is the first time in my life I’ve gotten more cosmetic things done regularly, like haircuts and manicures. I need to look at my fingers and have something happy to look at.)

As I've mentioned before, Boss Barista essentially breaks even between my editor, processing fees to my website host, and all the tools and subscriptions I use to make the podcast — it doesn’t really account for my time and labor, which was ok in the past. But now, I cannot justify investing the same amount energy here in the way I've done before.

Simply put, I failed to make this sustainable. I just did, and I see other newsletters thrive, sending hundreds of "please pay for this product" emails. These emails both infuriate me because they feel disingenuous (especially when rich people with very popular newsletters ask me for money! How dare they!) but also make me feel sad because I couldn't do what they do. I could not make this work.

I think I'd still like to work on long-term projects, and I have things in the works that are tangentially related to Boss Barista (I'll tell you soon).

But for some reason, I've been thinking a lot about making cakes. I don't think I've had anyone bring a cake to work on my birthday¹. For my 31st birthday, I received a soft-boiled egg with a candle on it while working as a food runner at a restaurant in Chicago. However, I have brought a cake for my boss (and arranged a surprise for another on their birthday). I've helped arrange Christmas gifts for bosses who would never dream of reciprocating, and I think now — in my fuzzy memory age — I've decided I'll never bring a cake to a boss ever again.

I think this is on my mind because I've been thinking about my relationship to effort. Effort is lauded as a virtue but rarely acknowledged, and it very seldom comes from the top down — effort seems only to be a measure we consider from those working at the bottom of the employment ladder.

I've seen so many workplaces where the joy and sparkle and praise of workers comes from the workers themselves rather than the leaders who should be witnessing — and certainly and knowingly reap the benefit — of the people around them. I see so many places where workers bring their bosses cake, and it would never occur to the boss to even say thank you for the gift. And they certainly would never bring you a cake on your birthday.

Just a reminder that all paid subscriptions have been paused but if you'd like a deeper refund, please email me at ashleyisacommonname@gmail.com. I promise this isn't the end — it just might be more sporadic. Thank you to everyone that’s stuck around.

1. I'm pretty sure. I'm also reaching an age where I think I remember things, but then I have to put an asterisk because my memory is fuzzy. If I worked with you and you brought me a cake to work, I sincerely apologize.