We’ve all had bad days at work. Sometimes a bad week. Well, I’m almost at the end of a bad month. Seriously. Toughest, most brutal work month of my life. There were impossible deadlines, my boss yelled so much he lost his voice, then wrote notes for his assistant to yell at us (I couldn’t make that up), tempers were flaring everywhere. There was even a wrestling match between 57-year-old Rhonda (we call her Honda, but not why you think) and our intern Steve. It was disturbing yet fascinating. Poor Steve.
Yeah, pretty bad month. And it’s not over. That’s why I was so looking forward to today. My first Saturday off (that I actually wanted) in a loooonnnnnggg time. I was anxious to see the ever growing list of unreasonable stuff my wife wants me to do around the house (I’m actually incapable of doing any of them). I couldn’t wait to drive my mumbling, surly, ungrateful son anywhere he demanded. And I smiled at the thought of being home and letting my daughter’s constant eye-rolling disdain for me and everything I am just wash over me. That’s how bad things have been at work. I wanted to be home.
So why am I writing this from my nice quiet office that was officially closed down by the boss because he saw 27 of his employees crying on Thursday (I’m proud to say I was not one of the cry babies…well, at least he didn’t see me)? I’m here because while I’ve always assumed that I was the main cause for the tension and hatred in my house, it turns out I might have actually been a buffer. Seems that without my good naturedness (only in comparison to the other people I live with) the “dark side” has taken over my house. There was cursing and fighting and throwing things and spinning heads. And I’m happy to say that none of it was directed at me. But it was unbearble to witness. I now know what it feels like to live in the Middle East.
So before anyone noticed I was even at home, I quietly snuck outside, rolled my car out of the driveway (I was afraid the sound of the ignition would draw the attention of the hell-beasts in my house), and am now sitting at my desk in the dark. Happy to be here. And crying like my cry-baby coworkers. Though these are tears of joy and relief. I am in my sanctuary.