Normal, what a horrible and limiting concept.
I'm back at work after an extended weekend. Despite the emails and phone messages left in my absence, the world did not collapse.
Personally, I'm still slightly in recovery mode. There was an inordinate amount of social contact during my weekend. I met Manson for crying out loud. There were crowds, fans, bouncers, assistants, more fans, more fans, drunk fans, photographers and general populace abounding. By the end of the weekend all I wanted to do was put on jammies and hide under a blanket with my Kindle.
I am an introvert by nature. Even this anonymous blog, unseen in the vast reaches of inter-web-space-stuff, is more social contact than I normally prefer. I decided a year or so ago that occasionally it would not hurt me to be more social.
You know the face that a child makes when they have to take medicine or go to bed earlier than they want? Yeah, that's the face I make when I think of being social with my fellow human beings.
So, baby-steps. I force myself to talk with co-workers, even when I really could not possibly care any less about what their children ate or watched on TV this past weekend. I have practiced at keeping a pleasant yet neutral expression on my face, instead of the default expression of faint annoyance. I swear that I am not actually that bitter and grouchy, it's just how the muscles in my face relax when left to their own devices. I could be having a perfectly fine day, but if I don't actually make a concerted effort to put a pleasant expression on my face, people think I'm pissed.
So, here I am back at work. My back to the rest of the office, repairing other peoples mistakes and accounting for their errors. And I will not allow myself to curse them, swear at them, or even scowl at them. Because that would be rude and unprofessional and anti-social.
Dear internet...If my head explodes will you clean up after me?
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