I hate the later reflection and the inevitable realization that the breakdown was completely baseless and uncalled for. However, I would like to acknowledge that my emotions were right on the surface thanks to little sleep, post-MSing, and the fact that my co-worker did not tell me what I wanted to hear after sharing my issues with him.
Fortunately I finished work at 1:15 today. The first tear didn't fall until the parking lot. The last one fell somewhere between the College Ave exit and the 131 interchange on 196.
I don't let myself cry in front of people. This is a skill I have been refining since my eighth grade English teacher made me cry in the school counselor's office. I don't remember why we were in her office, or what he said to make me cry, but it happened, it was humiliating, and I vowed never to give in to tears in public.
Unfortunately I broke that vow when my high school choir teacher said the following:
"If you sing that way at Solo and Ensemble,
you will embarrass yourself."
you will embarrass yourself."
I hated that man. I still hate that man.
I have never been the girl to get drunk and cry at a party/bar. I have never been the girl who cries to get out of a ticket. I didn't cry when I totaled my car. I didn't cry when I fractured a part of my ankle, and I didn't cry when I spun the van all the way around in the snow and ice on the way home from class*. When I cry, its not pretty. There's no elegant run of tears, its a gusher of moisture, blotchy skin, and uncontrollable shaking. Think along these lines:
The last time I let myself cry in front of people was at my Grandmother's funeral last fall. I
figured that was an appropriate venue, however the dozens of wet tissues in my purse were not.
So today I cried at work. Tears that wouldn't have happened, had my co-worker not so eloquently said:
I have never been the girl to get drunk and cry at a party/bar. I have never been the girl who cries to get out of a ticket. I didn't cry when I totaled my car. I didn't cry when I fractured a part of my ankle, and I didn't cry when I spun the van all the way around in the snow and ice on the way home from class*. When I cry, its not pretty. There's no elegant run of tears, its a gusher of moisture, blotchy skin, and uncontrollable shaking. Think along these lines:
The last time I let myself cry in front of people was at my Grandmother's funeral last fall. I
figured that was an appropriate venue, however the dozens of wet tissues in my purse were not.
So today I cried at work. Tears that wouldn't have happened, had my co-worker not so eloquently said:
"Oh snap, you're shaking! Are you going to lose it?
You're about to lose it! Eeew!"**
You're about to lose it! Eeew!"**
Which is when I booked it out of his office, despite his protests for me to come back and sit down. I blew through the glass doors and let it happen. Those obnoxious tears that I couldn't fight anymore.
*That's a lie, I totally cried when this happened.
**Like most men, Luke does not know how to properly handle a woman on the verge of tears.
*That's a lie, I totally cried when this happened.
**Like most men, Luke does not know how to properly handle a woman on the verge of tears.