It’s been a crazy-busy couple of weeks. Work has been particularly busy for a while now, which I guess is good, because it’s job security. But lately it’s gotten…well, let’s just say there are three of us, and all three of us have had a mini-breakdown over the last month.
Last week, the week before Valentine’s Day, was particularly bad, and about noon that Friday I was really having a hard time keeping it together. Add work stress to the stress in my personal life (see previous posts…), and it’s really no surprise I was on edge.
About 1pm, I got an email that I had a delivery at the front desk. I didn’t really think about it at first, about the fact that it was Valentine’s Day. I wondered what it could be. Then, five seconds later, I remembered it was Valentine’s Day, and I really wondered why I would have a delivery. I got up and started walking to the front desk, wondering if maybe The Pilot had sent me flowers, as an apology or something. Five seconds later I shook my head. No way.
I was about halfway to the front desk before I remembered that my Dad sends me flowers every Valentine’s Day. And suddenly, it was all too much. I knew I couldn’t make it to the front desk, I couldn’t pick up the flowers, and in fact, I was lucky to be able to turn around and make it back to my desk without completely losing it.
I sat down and looked at my coworker, and told her that my Dad had sent me flowers, but I couldn’t pick them up.
And that’s when I lost it. Sobbing, at my desk, trying to keep it together and failing miserably. My coworker took pity on me and went to pick up the flowers while I tried to get control of myself.
No one thing did it. Being dumped the way I was, and dealing with the new knowledge about his double life. Stress at work. The stress of Valentine’s Day. It just all snowballed into a sniveling mess.
Things will get better. I will get better.
And until then, I will get by.