I didn’t come to work to listen to the never ending soap opera of your life, your child, your baby daddy, and your other baby daddy. I didn’t come to work to tell you to hang in there, to listen to how hard your life is, what a jerk your ex is, about your latest diet, about your latest medical ailment, your latest family drama. I don’t feel like hearing about your latest on-line college class – in which you had to do all the work because you volunteered to be the team leader and now the others aren’t pulling their weight, so you will have to sit up till the wee hours writing everyone else’s stuff (again), and you will be sooo tired tomorrow morning you will probably show up looking like hell so that everyone will ask you what is wrong.
Believe it or not, I come to work to do my job. I don’t come here for the social benefit. It's just not classy to share every detail of your sordid life with whomever will give you the attention you so obviously crave. I don’t need to get involved in your personal life and I don’t expect you to get involved in mine. In fact, I would prefer to keep you out of my personal life. It’s none of your damn business.
Why do you assume that everyone wants to hear the minutiae of your child’s every moment? Do I really wanna know that he eats the foam from your throw pillows (and you do nothing to stop him)? Does anyone? Do I NEED to know that he “gave you a poopy when you got home,” or that his nose runs because it’s allergy season, or what his teacher told you on the phone yesterday about what he did and didn’t eat for lunch??
Don’t get me wrong. I consider myself a caring and supportive person. I love kids. I have two of my own. I feel that when circumstances call for it, I can be very understanding of your absences. I don’t even comment when you can’t come to work because your live-in loser didn’t come home all night and you have been crying and frantic and haven’t had any sleep.
But let’s be clear here: don’t assume that I care, because I don’t. Leave your personal life at home. We’ll all be better off.
"Like."
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ReplyDeleteI'll tell my wife to stop talking.
ReplyDeleteWell by God !!
ReplyDeleteI'll have a potato salad and coffee.
ReplyDeleteWhy do you assume that everyone wants to hear the minutiae of your child’s every moment? Do I really wanna know that he eats the foam from your throw pillows (and you do nothing to stop him)? Does anyone? Do I NEED to know that he “gave you a poopy when you got home,” or that his nose runs because it’s allergy season
ReplyDeleteThis is when I really started laughing.
all too true, my sister. all. too. true.
ReplyDelete