Sunday, August 24, 2014

Divorce My Co-Workers

                           

by The Urban Blabbermouth
~

I am dreaming of resigning my job. I will wave good-bye to my co-workers, accept their good wishes, and never see them again. By this time, I will have spent some eight hours a day for the last ten years (20,800 hours) with them. Tell me I am not married to them all.

I feel married to my co-workers since I spend so much more time (20,800 hours) with them, more than with almost anyone else. People use terms like “office wife”, “office husband”, or “office buddy” (formerly Old Boy). So it is not so strange that in my leaving, we are getting a divorce or at least leaving feels like one to me.

Funny thing, after so many years (20,800 hours) together, I know so little about my co-workers. Well, that's not quite true. I know them very well and I do not know them at all. I know all about their adventures while on vacation, hear stories about their kids, see pictures of their kids, yet I have never been to their homes or actually met any of their kids. And, these are the people I like.

There are a few co-workers that I do not like. These are the “office pests”. Sure, we work together, but we keep the social aspects to a minimum. Why don't they just run away from home like a bad wife should? Now that I have resigned, I am quite happy never to see them again.

There are those that I have already divorced long before I resigned. We were “office buddies” once and we had a falling out. We fell out because they did things I hate, said bad things about me, told our other co-workers my secrets, or stole my lunch. We still see each other at work, sometimes doing our jobs together, and yet, keeping away from each other as much as we can. Now that is a true divorce, much like a marriage falling apart, but you are stuck together because of the kids. What’s the proper term, “office estranged” or “office heart-broken”?

Will my former co-workers will feel the same about me when I am gone? Will they stop their ever busy work and think of me, “Wonder what became of Old Blabbermouth? Is he still alive? Probably sitting by a pool somewhere sipping Piña Coladas. Lucky dog.” Then, I will just fade away from their memories while they get on with their work.

When I was a newbie worker and the older workers were resigning, I never gave them any thought. Now it’s my turn. There is no judge here to decide the divorce.  It only happens when I leave. Then the divorce will be final.