Today I broke down at work. I know this is corporate no-no 101, but I am just so exhausted. Thank god it wasn't in front of my boss (which I have done before, sadly enough - now that I think about it TWICE, in my five short professional years - please, give me an award!).
I am emotional. I cannot deny it. Any thoughtful, high-level disagreement I have is ruined by emotion. Maybe it's all the bad news about the economy I'm reading, but, when I was looking at my riddled-with-appointments Outlook calendar, I broke down. The last thing I would want, is for my manager - and my team - to think my work is compromised because of my disease. How can they not notice six appointments / PTO requests in three weeks?
The thing is, they are nothing but understanding - sublimely gracious and thoughtful - but who wants to be the girl who's out all the time? At least I don't look sick - I am strong and confident at work (well, except when I'm crying, of course).
Being realistic, my job is (currently) safe, as is Matt's, but who wouldn't get paranoid with these sensationalist headlines? So, with the current sleeplessness and pain, I've become a ball of stress. I keep pestering Matt about his company's pipeline (he's a consultant) and I've told Penny she can have no more Pupperoni's (her favorite, second only to Snausages) because "Mommy and Daddy cannot afford it". What have I become?!
Matt is his quiet, stoic self. At least I like to think he's stoic when he's standing there, looking off into the distance, silent. He may just be zoning out when I start complaining about the economy or how expensive pistachios are - who knows.
So I cried at my desk. It was a good, five minute ditty, and then I was done. I dried my eyes with paper napkins in my drawer, fixed my mascara (my mother says I wear too much mascara and have raccoon eyes - whatever) and went back to work. And you know what? It felt good. And that was that.