2003-04-23 - 8:30 a.m.
I often find myself humming Talking Heads lyrics at work. There's something about their ideas of putting random words together that seems to match up well with my office. On a bad day it's a Kafka novel; on a good day it's a voluntary admittance mental ward. I love the people I work with - I love them for their addiction to Family Circle magazine, their Lean Cuisine lunches, their insistence that an assistant should clean her executive's coffee cup _every_ day. Genuinely - I love them. They are America at its best because they mean well. They love their families. They are dedicated to the details of living in a small community in California.
But some days it's a little lonely. I don't think of myself as that unusual - certainly my friends eat the Korean food with me; there are other people who have 5,000 craft projects going at the same time and who have more Aimee Mann than Bon Jovi in their CD cases.
Co-workers are a little like family; they critique you, help you, hinder you - and you don't get to choose them any more than they choose you.
Comments: Speak your piece!
former / latter