Post #39
I hate my work colleagues more than ever
The Incident Report · Classification: Office Hostilities · Mission Status: Advanced DGAF
I shouldn’t say this but what the fuck. My DGAF-o-Meter says it’s okay to. I can’t stand my work colleagues (okay not all of them, just enough to make it a statistic). They aren’t just annoying, they’re incompetent and cliquey. The worst of it is that in my PRE-CRONE days I was an embarrassing obsequious Uriah Heep (relatively, I never actually kissed the ring as much as that but still, parabolic is The Crone!) of an employee.
But I was young and stupid and deathly scared of losing my cheap-assed badly paid job because of that thing called climbing the FUCKING ladder. I learned my error. I should have known something was happening inside me, that the hormonal riot was about to begin. There were subtle signs of revolt such as “no I can’t come with you for drinks; I have plans this evening.” This was a lie, I’d rather stick pins in my eyeballs than sit with people I don’t really like very much and listen to them yakking on and on about their crotch-fruit’s sports games or first words or whatever. Anyway, I was always fucking tired, the commute was long and smelly (not me, everyone else’s BO notched up to a zillion — another symptom of perimenopause) and I wanted to go home, have a shower and veg out.
The ability to tolerate people was on the wane. A new dawn was breaking and there I stood naked and free, saluting the sun god. Ready to sacrifice myself on the altar of not giving a shit anymore about what my colleagues thought of me. I was evolving. My estrogen was giving off signals it was ready to run off like a baboon in estrus waving its glowing behind at the boys. Progesterone was not far behind. With these two hormones going AWOL, havoc and apathy made their debut. Why? Because changing hormones can affect brain systems involving dopamine and serotonin, neurotransmitters involved in motivation, pleasure and mood. Add crappy sleep and exhaustion and we get what I had. A massive intolerance to my work colleagues. Them talking, them slurping coffee, them picking at their chins, the list goes on.
If only I had known what was coming. FUCK that would have been a welcome heads-up from my body. But no, it was too busy betraying me. So I passed from basic DGAF to advanced level DGAF much faster than I expected and now I’m here hating my colleagues. Okay I don’t actually hate them, that would mean I care about them which I don’t. Strong apathy and barely veiled contempt might be more accurate.
The sounds of their voices, their exuberance breaking over me like a wave of bouncing golden retrievers, their idiotic FUCKING oversensitivity and entitlement. ALL OF IT is just too fucking much for this Crone. The office is a teenage sleepover and the mean girls are out in force. Thankfully I can deflect their bullshit with a massive dose of brain fog (to filter them out and also bore them to death Daria style) and zero patience that makes me huff and puff and grunt when they start talking. The best bit of all? Being able to zone out and smile when I want and not when I have to.
So there we have it. I bet you don’t feel so bad now!
PC - POST CRONE