Anyone who knows me semi-well knows that I have been an emotional wreck ever since James left in April. My mom is used to receiving late night phone calls from her sobbing daughter and tries her best to understand the tearful, pillow-muffled mumbles that pour from my mouth on lonely nights...my family gets disappointed at my last minute decision to skip the family camping trip in favor of remaining isolated during my times of emotional instability so as not to scare anyone with my depressed outlook on the remaining months until James returns...the man at Subway looks at my with pity and judgment in his eyes when I start crying in between saying "turkey" and "avocado" and have to leave in the middle of my order to take cover in my car, lest anyone else should see me in my moment of vulnerability (granted, this one actually happened before James left...he happened to tell me he was deploying right before we went into Subway...big mistake!) Yes, that's me...the psycho-woman who breaks into tears without any noticeable provocation and scares family, coworkers, and passersby. How did it all come to this?? I used to be a rational human being!! At least I think I did...whereas now I am just a ball of absurd emotions ready to burst forth at any moment. Meh.
It is a very, very, veeeeeeery lucky thing that I have my own office with a door, and a lock if need be. Mondays tend to be my most emotional days for some reason...maybe it's the combination of missing James and realizing that another week has arrived that I have to make it through in order to get closer to James coming home that does it. Whatever the reason...it's been a distinct pattern over the last six months, although that's not to say that I don't also freak out on other days of the week as well. About a month ago I was at work...stressing about wedding stuff but trying to make it through the day without outwardly showing how freaked out I was. That all went down the drain when my boss's wife/office bookkeeper/receptionist came into my office to ask how my weekend had been. It had been great in fact, but instead all I could do to answer her was to turn my head away from the door and tell her I couldn't talk at the moment. That of course didn't work and even though I clearly wanted to be left alone so as to focus on my work rather than my wedding stress she poked and prodded about what was bothering me until I just exploded. That's right, I started bawling in my office...my door wide open...my office surrounded by the offices of three grown men who could hear my every screechy word as I attempted to speak clearly while simultaneously sobbing. Anyone who has ever tried to have a conversation while also crying knows that it is not easy...nor is it pretty. This was the one instance where the door didn't get closed, making it all the more embarrassing for me. Not surprisingly all the men in the office completely avoided me for the rest of that day and a few days afterward ...Pierre who is in the office right past mine would slink quickly past my door so as not to set off the psycho girl who might attack or combust at any moment. I'm sure the men were probably just cursing the day two years ago that they mistakenly thought it would be a good idea to hire a 22 year old girl rather than a 50 year old emotionally stunted man. I am just trying to forget that day happened and hope that the rest of my office forgets too. At least today I managed to close the door before erupting...I wonder how much they can hear through my door...Luckily at least one of them is hard of hearing.
Here is a little relief from all the seriousness of mopey Monday. This goes out to some friends of mine who have recently shared similarly embarrassing office sob stories.
Sometimes work is the best place to cry... that way you keep the negative emotions away from the places you actually enjoy. That's what I tell myself at least. I think all my coworkers have seen me cry lol
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