It's because I have killed a co-worker. And I'm not just talking a gentle killing - we're talking full on hand-to-hand assualt with a deadly weapon (ie. my heavy duty stapler or my good Fiskars scissors). I.AM.SO.SICK.OF.REGULAR.NON-MILITARY.PEOPLE.WHO.DON'T.UNDERSTAND.
The last couple of weeks have gotten bad. I think it's because I am soooooooo looking forward to Al's leave - and it feels like it is NEVER going to get here. But, I have grown so impatient with people - I have zero, zilch, zip tolerance left. You hear that, people? MY TOLERANCE HAS LEFT THE BUILDING!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm not saying that there aren't civilians out there in the world that are perfectly nice, that may even go above and beyond in the empathy department - what I AM saying is that NONE of them work at my company. I already stopped going on break, and I NEVER eat my lunch in the lunch room. That way I don't have to deal with 40 million questions about Al being gone or my mom being sick. Am I wrong to feel this way? I mean these people barely KNOW me from Eve. And then they have to come up to me and ask me extremely personal questions about my life? How do they even know about this stuff anyway? Gossip. That's how.
You know, maybe I'm just oversensitive or something - but I just don't go around asking people unbelievably personal stuff. Like, I don't walk up to other people and go, "Well, Sally, How's that incontinence going for you?", or "John, did your son get out of drug rehab yet?". I mmob (mind my own business) - and unless someone is either a direct family member 0r a VERY close personal friend, I don't pry. I think it's rude to shove somebody's face into their personal issues.
Today, I was assaulted in my cube. And I say assaulted because it was a surprise attack that I did NOT welcome. I was quietly doing my work and mmob, when one of the older ladies in the office saunters by - and our conversation went like this . . .
Mean Old Lady: So, Melinda, when is your boyfriend getting home, anyway?
Me: Well, he's my fiancé not my boyfriend, and he will be home in either August or September.
Mean Old Lady: OH! Not UNTIL AUGUST or SEPTEMBER? That's a really long time to wait, huh?
Me: Yes, it sure is.
Mean Old Lady: Well, at least when he's home, he's home for good, right?
Me: No. He will only be home for 15 days, and then he has to go back to Iraq.
Mean Old Lady: WHAT? HE HAS TO GO BACK? THAT'S A.W.F.U.L.!! Well, he'll be home for good in like October, right?
Me: No. He will not be home for good until January or February.
Mean Old Lady: January? February? How are you going to be able to take it? That's F.O.R.E.V.E.R.!! How terrible!!!
Me: **saying nothing, trying not to strangle her with my bare hands, forcing a smile unto my face**
---> Exit Stage Right, Mean Old Lady.
Just to clarify, I don't want to think of my situation as being horrible or awful or tragic or blah, blah, blah. This is what just what God has handed Al and me to deal with - and some days are much worse than others, but I just have to suck it up and keep on moving. I love Al like crazy - and I would never change having him in my life. Not for one second would I give him up to make this situation go away. He is worth every minute of this crap. Well, most minutes anyway - lol.
So, let this be a public service announcement to the American Public at Large ---- if you know somebody who has somebody deployed, DON'T ASK STUPID QUESTIONS!! You will know when their loved one is home for good by the 10,000 watt smile on their face. And if you don't know anything about it - it's probably because they chose not to tell you in the first place!!! Don't forget, when all else fails, you can practice my MYOB manuever - it never fails.