Why such kindness?

When someone does something heinously cruel to you, and your life is turned upside-down, you are hypersensitive to everything nice people do for you, always, ever, and kindof cry a lot.

My desk at work is on the end of a row, adjacent to an aisle that hosts the entirety of our office's thoroughfare. Last year, a girl, M, worked with me. Her lack of seniority put her in the peon end of the office: right by me. She was cute and bubbly and friendly, dripping with honey that caught all kinds of flies. Including me. But also including every person in our office. Our two desks formed the threshold/gateway to The Rest Of The Office, and that meant that when our juniority denied us of all that much to do, we became the Bermuda Triangle of the department. 

At the end of the year we got an award, presented to us in front of about 100 people at our department party, titled simply "Sirens." The manager read aloud the page-long bit from Greek myth 1010 about the Sirens that sang as sailors went by, and trapped them all in the Siren lair, and then slaughtered them, and how no sailors ever made it past. We were temporarily concerned about what that would do for business. Everyone in the office had, at that moment, made a silent resolve to be the sailor that would get away. And we were seriously concerned that our socializing would come to a screeching halt and departmental productivity would soar.

Fortunately, it didn't. 

But then M left the company and took a $15k paycut to reclaim some semblance of a soul (pfssht, sell-out), and I was left all alone in my suddenly defective Bermuda Triangle. Yet somehow, the socializing continued. My penchant for ADD behavior thrived. And my productivity suffered. Two years into the job, I was no longer bored and riddled with free time. 

My seat at the intersection of all department goings-on suddenly hindered me. Karma, I guess. Every conversation near or far, piqued my interest. Shit this story is long, and you're going to be disappointed at the end.

The thing about our lame office layout is that my computer faces away from all the action. Initially, that meant I could not slack off in private, the way all the other transponsters can. To be fair to myself, I'm very self-conscious about my project management styles, and like to know when a teammate is going to approach. Having any one of them loom behind me, silently watching me attend to an account that is not theirs, while I have no idea I'm being observed, is unnerving.

So my two weaknesses were at an impasse.

I shifted my computer to a new angle, so that only associates walking up from ONE direction could gawk at what was on my computer screen. But I was still craving privacy (and some distance from all the hindering distractions, now that the hindering distraction is no longer me). 

My friend/coworker/mentor on one project/matronly figure stood nearby and listened to me bitch about it. Another associate looked on.

I'm not sure what was said, but within minutes, both of these people were grunting and heaving a huge bookshelf up beside my v-shaped workspace, to create a third side. 

And many jokes about My Office, and Taking a Number, and Now I Can Start That Prostitution Ring, were exchanged. And it was good.

And my two coworkers were exceedingly proud. And everyone else in the office strolled by and commented with some unexplainable delight, at my new wall. Even my boss. Who I didn't hesitate to reprimand for not knocking first.

The hooplah about Kiri's New Wall, somehow pleased me. Why are my coworkers so nice? How are they so interested in me being happy and comfortable? For no reason! What is the deal with the fact that everyone that walked by, took a little joy in the fun little change these two friends provided me. It's not their joy. But they shared it anyway. 

Cuz my coworkers are like that. Always have been.

And when a [soon-to-be-former] spouse bulldozes you for no reason, and leaves you grasping for any ease to your pain, you find that tender mercies like this - like kind, outreaching coworkers - go a long way. 

They make you write blog posts that just won't end. Because you hurt, your body aches to parallel your soul. The spot just between your lungs and four inches down, feels like it's had a big, hot stone implanted there. Your intestines have the same sensation your skin does when it gets a bad sunburn. Why your body has to mimic your soul, you do not know. But when you see people around you grinning with love and support, even when it's something silly, you take it.

You take it, and it sustains you for longer than you'd believe.

On the days I hate my clients/cross-functional teams/computer, I look around and remember I am so not alone. That God might give you a kick in the face, but he'll have already set up aid for your recovery.

And I'm going to be OK.