No more tears

I am not an insensitive bitch. I know there are those who will disagree with me out there, but really, I'm not. It's just I work in a deadline-driven environment and we are paid to do good (or good enough) work within a predetermined budget and timeline. And I'm a pro.

The art director I'm paired with most often is going through marital troubles. This results in lots of confiding, much staring into space, and worst of all, many tears. I find this frustrating and embarrassing.

I have never cried in the office. I cannot imagine a circumstance where I would -- short of dropping an Xacto knife blade first onto my sandal-clad foot.

I know she considers me her friend, so that makes my kicking her ass even more difficult. She wants me to sympathize with her, and when we aren't working on deadline I try. But this week I need her to do her job, and her attention fades in and out.

And then there's the just the fact that I am simply repulsed by people who cry in public. I can't handle it. All that vulnerability. (Not to mention the splotchy face and the snots.)

I shall work on honing my empathic skills. I shall try to remember what my boss likes to tell me, which is that no one has ever died from a missed due date. I shall try to lighten up. Really I will.

Because I hate feeling like an insensitive bitch.

Back in the saddle again ...

Here I am at my desk, wishing I was anywhere else. I'm soooo tired. Maybe this is to be expected on my first day back to work after four days off. Or maybe I've simply fallen victim to a particularly virulent strain of ennui.

If I get out of here at a reasonable time this evening, I want to make sure I walk my 10,000 steps. It could just be that I miss exercise. I love this adorable little G4 with all my heart, but it's not like it's doing anything for me physically except bringing me closer to carpal tunnel syndrome.