I understand that my desk is situated in the same room as the supplies, photocopier, vending machines and all-important mail cart. I understand that you must pass by my desk to get to all of these things. I understand that my desk is right near the door and there is no way to avoid me on your quest to fetching your latest stationery catalogue, creating your newest photocopies or fulfilling your current salt craving.
What I don’t understand is why you all feel like you are duty bound to speak to me. Especially in the morning. I make NO attempt to hide the fact that I hate small talk. I also make no attempt to hide my contempt for any time of day prior to 11 A.M. So why for the love of all things holy do you ALL insist on talking to me in the morning when you come in to my office?
Shit! Leave me alone! And PLEASE don’t stop and stand directly in front of my desk and ask me stupid questions as though I was four years old. When I am answering you in one word sentences and seem enthralled by whatever is on my computer screen (which is most likely facebook or this blog), TAKE THE HINT! I don’t want to talk to you.
Also, please stop with your play by play of my current actions. I am aware of what I am doing. It is one of the benefits of being a sane, conscious individual. When I yawn, I do not need you going ‘Ohhh! Looks like someone is tired!’ Again, I will reiterate….do not talk to me as though I am four years old. When I look stressed, do not say ‘you look stressed! Boy oh boy!’
And unless you want to get punched directly in your face, DO NOT INFORM ME THAT I LOOK ANGRY. Please note the title of this blog….It’s Just My Face!!!!! Seriously, you walk past me every day, ask me how I am, listen to my unenthusiastic response given to you with my best deadpan face so as not to encourage you to continue with this stupid act, and yet you constantly act shocked that I don’t jump up and greet you with a cheer and pom poms.
I am here to work.* I am not here to: listen to your sexual conquests, listen to you groan about your Wednesday morning hangover, chat about the weather, discuss why exactly I am tired, comment on my wacky habit of yawning, discuss the latest treasures you have retrieved from your mail slot, or answer your dumb questions as to the state of my face.
Please. Just leave me be. Just ignore me as I ignore you. Then, I will be happier. You may even see me smile.
*By ‘work’ I mean, anything I deem important/fun. This very rarely includes small talk with you and your counterparts.