This might be the weirdest post I’ve written. I take it as a general rule that nobody reads this blog. I am quite content with that, however, I also take it as a general rule that the people I work with might peek in here from time to time as generally people with public blogs at work (past and present) do have people who look and who often mock. More often than not I don’t think twice about it but today it’s been a pretty rotten morning at work.
And it’s my problem. Not theirs. I’m not blaming anyone, or anything. It’s my situation and my feelings, but this is my space, so please don’t take this in a moany way as it will almost probably sound.
The people I work around are on a constant busy time of Christmas meetings and meals, gifts from suppliers and so on. It’s lovely, and nice they all get something. I get that, and I don’t resent that – as it’s nothing to do with me. But then when you have everyone who works around you talking about their lunchtime meal they’re having with their Secret Santa presents with each other and you’re not invited, well, it does get to you. It’s not even the fact I’m not involved, it’s more I wasn’t asked. Chances are I’d have declined, but there’s no option to be involved. But I shouldn’t expect to be involved as they’re only people who I sit at work with, they’re not my friends.
But it got me down. Things get me down easily, and I’m really not looking forward to Christmas as much as I should be. I’ve knocked my own stuffing out of it and I’m putting on a happy face for H.
So tonight when we got home she sat on my knee, and said “mummy, I’ve made you some more Christmas Cards because you deserve them and I want to make you happy”. Needless to say in my slightly sensitive overthinking frame of mind I’m in right now I burst into tears. See, whatever happens outside of my life, what she did was because she loves me and that means a bazillion times more to me than any lousy work thing that I’d never be a part of. And for that I’m the happiest person in the world right now. I’m never going to take those school pictures that come home every day for granted any more as she’s doing them because she loves me. Even though she’s bringing home an average of three a day.
So actually, today doesn’t matter because a four year old put it all right again. All is well with the world once more. I sometimes need to remind myself of this.