Monday, July 2, 2007

Getting By With a Little Help From My Friends

It is no secret that I have been frustrated at work lately, for reasons that are completely unoriginal and redundant. This morning, as I was carpooling with my friend/co-worker (A), I had to take an early exit and sit in a liquor shop's vacant parking lot gasping for air and trying to compose myself. Composition being elusive, I tried to get to a point where I could drive and not endanger people. We made it to work alive.

Before we walked into the office, I sat in the car, staring at my steering wheel. Nausea, vertigo and lack of oxygen is a heady combination on a Monday morning. "I'm running out of time, and I have accomplished nothing. Nothing. I'm going to die soon and will have been a waste." As the words came pouring out, I realized I was contributing to my friend's sense of panic.

I made it through the day, writing angry responses to emails that were so stupid it was amazing I didn't go and smack someone upside the head. I exercised further self restraint and didn't send any of the angry responses, opting to wait a little while and respond in a more professional tone. That did not mean that I wasn't scaring people. When A came and asked me how I was feeling after a string of emails was being tossed around, doubling and tripling my paper shuffling duties, I looked up at her and quoted a new favorite writer of mine, "I'm motherfucking ZEN, goddammit."

"Ok, well--let me know if you need anything."

And such was my day. As I dropped A off outside her house, she tried to be reassuring mumbling something before she got out of the car. Suddenly, as if she had stumbled upon a great idea, she said, "Hey, go home and read your friends. That should cheer you up."

She's right; these 'friends' do cheer me up.

So thanks friends. Yes, that means you, you, you and you.


TK said...

Gosh, I'm famous!

Thanks, though there are days when I covet your more insightful prose. But thanks for reading, and thanks for writing. I like to think we collectively help each other get through the day.

Except for Manny... I'm not positive he actually does any work ever. Bastard.

girl with curious hair said...

You are famous--well, in as much as I keep telling my friends/co-workers about you all. They occasionally refer to you as my imaginary friends. Whatever.

Thank you for the kind words. I now have the energy to go and face some less than average people for a few hours.

And Manny? I'm hoping to learn how to get away with what he does.