#127 -- Looking Inward...

...while rejoining the world

“Both our opinions are rooted in our experience," I said. "Both of them are true, it's just that we've had different experiences.” ~ Robert B. Parker

This quote rolls through my head quite often. More so lately, as I struggle to understand something I’ve not had to deal with in a while — people. Yes, I’ve had to start trying to understand why some people do what they do, how they do it, and trying to navigate how that jibes with my views and opinions.

There’s another quote that I will paraphrase because I do not have my copy of the book here: “I’m considering that there are ways of being good that I have not thought about.”

As one who likes to consider themself a writer, this means to me that, by nature, I am not a talker. Only on those rare occasions when I find myself in a room full of friends and I have some wonderful tale of derring-do, or drunk off my ass in a room full of strangers, will you find me holding court.

I do not have the gift of gab. I tend to leave that those of you who are able to weave a tale out of thin air. I’ve got several friends who know how to carry a conversation mostly by themselves.

I do not mean that as a dig. I find it wonderful and awe inspiring. Not that I aspire to it, don’t misread that. I don’t aspire, desire, want, need to be the one in the room talking.

Which is why, throughout the course of my first week or so of my new job, I had to do some talking. It’s natural to have to speak to people on a regular basis, but it is not easy for me. I’ve not worked in an office setting for a long time, no doubt longer than some of my colleagues have been alive. The whole thing is a bit eerie to me, this structured choreography (isn’t choreography by its definition structure?) of an office setting.

I was introduced to people, given a desk, a computer, some headphones and a bunch of HR videos to watch. Plopped down on a planet where the customs and conventions of the inhabitants are alien to me.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m damned glad to have a job. This will sound like bitchy whiny-ness, but please don’t mistake me for being an ingrate.

I don’t know how to do idle chitchat.

I’ve never understood it. It’s true, I can have long conversations with people, sometimes 24 hour straight hours on a cross-country trip. But that seems wholly different than what chitchat is, the normal niceties.

“Good morning! How was your day? Did you have a nice night? Lovely moon, am I right? Bruins lost again, I see. Ugh… this rain! Will it ever end?”

And on and on. And on, it goes.

“Did you see Darren got a new car?”

“No, I didn’t. What kind is it?”

“He got one of those new Toyota hybrids. It’s really pretty.”

“Oh, wow! I hear you can go 8 hours on that thing without having to charge it again.”

Welcome to my nightmare.

I don’t give a flying fuck about Darren’s car.

That sounds harsh. I know this. And a portion of my brain, the empathetic part, screams at me to be kind, to join the human race, you introverted prick.

I think it all goes back to the two quotes back at the start. My opinion about chitchat is rooted in my experience. I haven’t truly been in an office setting in decades. And even before that, I was never known as a social butterfly. I enjoy my time out with friends, but when I’m done, I’m done. Prolonging the evening through farewells always seemed like a waste of time. Say goodbye and get the fuck out.

But I suppose the other quote is just as important. There are ways of being good that I have not thought about. Kindness is good. Caring is good. I work at both of these things. I try to be kind and I try to care. If I am on the subway and I have a seat and I see you standing, I’m happy to give you my seat. Like a sticker I had on my locker in high school of a cat: If I had two dead mice, I would give you one.

The point is, I’m going to strive to be better. The space, this world I now inhabit, is not my own. These people have found a rhythm, a symbiosis that works. They are kind to each other and they get through their day and they do their job. And they seemingly enjoy themselves.

I am going to attempt to reshape myself, manifest the Miss Manners inside of me, and attempt to join the human race because it’s the kind and caring way to be.

Nobody likes a grumpy cubicle.

I’ve never watched Office Space, but it seems like I should watch it for research?

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See you back here Monday for the next chapter from Milo and Mabel!

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Thanks for indulging me,

~ Tim