Don’t Make Me Cry

I don’t cry.

Okay, I lied.

What I mean is: I don’t cry at work. I just don’t. It shows weakness and I am tough. I will not show people my weakness.

Well, maybe on Twitter.  Twitter people accept you, don’t care if you rant and give you support when you need it or give a smack upside the head as appropriate. And they are willing to order you pitchers of margaritas…or raise a glass in support. God, I love my Tweeps!

Do you ever have those weeks when it just overwhelms you and you try to get work done but the sheer size of the mountain is so big that you just can’t do anything?

That was this week.

And Friday I nearly cried.

I was on the phone with someone discussing work shit and I was getting so frustrated that I choked up and couldn’t talk. Worst, he is one of my superiors. Not really my boss, but still in that upper echelon of bossdom.

“Sassy, are you there? Did I drop you? Are you reading emails again and not paying attention?”

“No. I’m here. Just sitting here.” Trying not to let the tears drop out of my eyes, my throat closing off  sobs; so glad that I am not in the office.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing. Go on. Finish what you need to say.” I know he can hear it in my voice. I just pray he doesn’t ask me again.

He continues. “Blah, blah, blah, blah…smile sometime today.”

Fuck you…Yeah okay.”

And even though the tears pooled and threaten, I did not let them fall. They slowly drained away only to leave me without the satisfaction only a good cry can give you. My eyes feel like they have cried and my body feels exhausted just from the effort to not LET THEM SEE ME CRY. Or in this case…hear me cry.

I am at a crossroads in my job.

I have two titles and two job descriptions that are at odds. It hasn’t been made official to the rest of the staff and I am encouraged to keep on foot steady on each end of the teeter-totter.

It’s getting harder to balance.

I am suffering from TMSOMFP syndrome (see tags)…and I just know that I am going to move my foot and go crashing down. Either I will fall hard on my ass to the point of breaking an ass bone or get flipped on the other end and go sailing through the air only to land on my face, breaking my expensive orthodontia perfected teeth in the process.

So I am going to smash that plate and scatter the shit until it gathers dust and doesn’t smell anymore.

I will delegate more.

I will go on radio silent and not feel the need to be there at all times, for everyone.

Because dammit! I need to!



6 thoughts on “Don’t Make Me Cry

  1. Oof. Delegating is the hardest thing for me to do at a job. I don’t have time to explain simple tasks to a moron, and honestly, the moron is not going to do the task to my specifications so I’m just going to have to go behind him/her and redo it anyway. Who has time for that?

    • You get me. or I get you…either way. It really is better to just do it ourselves, it causes less hassle in the end. That is, until we have the big one. *clutches chest and yells “Elizabeth, I’m coming”*
      I certainly don’t have time for that.

  2. Love your tags and GOOD FOR YOU! I have TMSOMFP Syndrome also and Twitter has been a wonderful way to tell the world to fuck off. I love my tweeple. Alcohol also helps wonders.

    P.S. If someone ever sees me cry it’s because shits about to go down because I just don’t do that.

    • I was asked the other day why I haven’t been on FB…I couldn’t respond that “Twitter is better” since I don’t want IRL people to find me. I agree…it’s a great place to flip the bird at the world and not be judged. Well, at least outwardly!

      I don’t think I would want to see you get to that point. I bet you get intense! have a great day!

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