I've laid all the golden eggs I can for today. I've spoiled you, with fully-charged blackberry at bedside, in the bike or saddlebag on my few hours away from the establishment, on "vibrate" in church and at the theatre. I chase your balloons, tolerate being interrupted by the "speak to the hand" gesture when making a point, am your sounding board when YOUR boss (grand dame, also) does to you, what you do to me. The tip of my tongue is gone.

Two years ago, the day after my first mastectomy, you called me at home, and I came to the office to help you. The day of the second mastectomy, you called my husband while I was in recovery, and I came to the office the next day. I refused reconstruction, because of the time commitment. How crazy is that?

Last year, the week after my husband broke his back, while at home, I received an email stating "I know you've had family obligations lately......, but you need to do this....!" I did it.

Last month, the day of his heart-attack, you said "take all the time you need." The following day, you called me 4 times for help in responding to your boss, political personalities, an angry constituent.

And you ask to me to stay in cell phone range while I'm on leave, and that those I supervise do the same. (I have quietly refused to do that.) I also quietly challenge this edict, by seeking remoter and remoter weekend activities. The only rest I get, is when I am on a plane, you are on a plane, or your blackberry is dead.

I am living to work, and it's killing me. It's not the job, it's my loyalty to you, and my work ethic. But others, my firends, you supervise are paying for my inability to tell you "no." You expect the same from them, and the treatment they get for commiting to their families, and ability to leave work at work, is harsh and lasting.

While I survived the cancer, I'm overweight, an insomniac, high cholesterol, have aged 10 years in the last 5. My marriage is strong, but more to his credit than mine. I've not seen my children since March, as my plans are always changed for me.

And you wonder why invitations to socialize on weekends are turned down? This is a fragile and tenuous relationship, yours and mine. That there are few women in our organization, forces us together. That you are new and I am not, that I am the organizer, know the numbers, current on email and directives, makes your reliance on me painfully heavy.

So, when can we talk?