For the past few months, I’ve been back in an office job, the kind that comes with cubicles, florescent lighting and gossiping co-workers. Yes, it has been a fairly soul crushing experience.
If only money grew on trees.
Or came more frequently and fluidly from the activities I do which feed my soul.*
It’s the gossip that bothers me the most. The tense whispers. The snickers. The HOURS of inane conversation about this or that person. It isn’t all negative, per se. But it is just SO MUCH CLUTTER.
I already have PLENTY of clutter, folks!
Debating for 45 minutes the size of a belt buckle some dude wore on a reality show does NOT improve my life.
Pointing out the flaws of those with whom we sat in a meeting does NOT improve my life.
Clearly, it entertains many people. Perhaps, I am simply too self-centered to understand its merits. All I know is, it exhausts me to overhear it, it bores me to engage in it, and it has the stickiness of oil on a feather.
Now, if someone wants to talk about the tragedy of oil on feathers, I will gladly engage. Unfortunately, that does not seem to be a topic of interest for the office gossip girls.
What’s your take on a little gossip?
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*Never fear. I am, indeed, working on this being more than an “if only,” with the help of Chris and Danielle and all of you. But it’s all happening at an annoyingly GLACIAL pace!
