I had one of those awful moments in work today where I realised that everyone thought I was taking things too seriously. That I shouldn’t be thinking about something so much. That I should just make a decision and stick to it and stop fretting and analysing and being obsessive. To that end I told the colleague who probably got the worst brunt of my worriting that I wasn’t stressed about the situation, that thinking a lot about something and wrangling with it until I had it sorted was a natural state of being for me, that stress, for me, was when someone was getting in my way and making things unnecessarily difficult through laziness, stupidity, arrogance etc. He knew what I meant about that last one, and he knew who I was talking about. Arsehole features I think I’ve called him here before, not that he had a staring role today.
I fucking hate being seen like that. My ability to obsess about the right thing at the right time is, and has always been my knack for getting more done than most of the people around me. I think all the time, I process constantly, I put things together in my head, re-jig them over and over until I’m satisfied I’ve thought of everything and if the outcome isn’t the one I wanted, I know I couldn’t have done anything more. And if I think I could have done more, I remember that for the next time, or at least do my best to.
I shouldn’t let it bother me in the slightest that they thought that. I think differently than them, I knew the situation with the customer, I actually have a vested emotional interest in this person getting what they want. Probably not what a true salesman does, I know. But I understand this person and their situation so well I can’t help but want to do my best for them, and how can I communicate that knowledge of mine, that I pick up being the empath that I am, to someone who doesn’t naturally do that?
It’s the misinterpretation that kills me. It’s the assumption that I’m being a stupid worrying woman and taking everything too seriously. I suppose I’m allowed be annoyed with that. Just not to obsess over it.
Anyway. It was a busy day, I’m going back to splonge on the couch for a few more minutes before bedtime. I shall leave you with a question: could the violent increase in whinging in the cats be a result of them never having experienced summer heat before? Because seriously, they wont shut the £$”! up. They aren’t sick, they haven’t run out of water, they’re eating and they’re full of energy, so it’s all I can come up with.
