truthIt is raining…again.  Not really much that I can complain about, although I always try to find something, because my section of the earth is in such a drought that it would literally have to rain forty days and forty nights for the water table to even begin to turn itself around.  Of course the rain means that my children can’t go outside and run their wiggles out, therefore, trouble and bad tempers always arrive.  It means that those I work with are stuck for long periods of time in the same place that I am, and this truly is never healthy.

The coworkers that I am forced, because no one chooses to work all the time, are for the most part so typical of the American company that I just want to put up my hands and laugh.  There is that tyrannical boss that ultimately knows that while he has the power, he doesn’t have the complete know how or desire to actually do all the work.  It should be done seamlessly without him.  My boss is the politician in the group.  Outside world loves him, the inside world puts up with him.

Then there is the coworker that has been here for years.  He believes that he knows all the ins and outs, and he actually might be right.  He has no ability to do anything other than agree, and will often wait until someone tells him to do something before he makes any decision. His success derives from his inability to be confrontational, and his real desire to listen to his customers until the end of time (although he doesn’t have the authority to do anything.)

Then there is the guy who is really smart, but so close to not caring anymore that he becomes a liability rather than the asset he could.  There is the uneducated, pretty girl answering phones, those that love the illusion of power so much they can’t possibility look at a problem rationally; and of course, the moaners, the complainers, the put upons, and those that believe with every fiber of their being that they are mistreated every day someone forces them to come to this hell hole.

For the most part, I simply stay out-of-the-way.  I enjoy making my boss look good; I am the kind of employee that everyone takes advantage of.  I have no interest in recognition, awards, staying late or arriving early, or any of the little bit of power that most assume is available to them.  I have been in this professional world long enough to realize that I am not a brain surgeon, and there is nothing that I do that is going to save mankind.  I come here for two reasons: health insurance and that little, tiny paycheck.  There is nothing else I am here for…literally.

The coworker that I seem to have the most trouble with – which is a shame since she sits right beside me – is the complainer.  The one who believes that the boss just hates her, and only here.  The one who believes that this life is made to take a dump on her, and no matter the truth, there was once a time when everything was perfect.  She used to be pretty, she used to be skinny, she used to universally loved.  It’s not true, but I have no need to burst her bubble. Believe it or not, despite the fact that the continued assault on my very nerves causes me to contemplate other means of work, I am not in the habit of bursting someone’s bubbles.  Nor I am in the habit of pointing out something obvious to someone who has no need to see it.

I like the complainer.  She doesn’t bother me, and I always hope that life will treat her better than she believes it is.  I always hope that one day she is happy.  We both know that will never happen.  We both know this kind of person is who she is, and there is nothing that I will ever say to change her.

But could she allow me peace?  I can take occasional complaining, I can even take a bitch session.  What I can never take is the constant.  The constant, over and over, sadness.  I don’t want to be sad.  I don’t want to be taken down by the innocent words of those who can’t find happiness.  I don’t want to be lowered by those whose lives are different from mine.  I want to live my life, and I would really enjoy if you lived yours.

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