Earth: shatter. Skies: fall. I am about to tell you a great and terrible thing: The Queen of Talk Returneth.
First of all, for those of you who didn't know- the Queen of Talk left a week and a half ago- for a permanent job. And great was my- inward- rejoicing. But cruel fate was mocking me.
Our "boss" from the temp agency came by the job site yesterday and told us that the Queen of Talk had suffered a personal tragedy. Her mother was hit by a car and died this week. We were all quite shocked and sorry. Then she told us that the Q o' T's new job ( not obtained through the temp agency) had a problem with giving her time off to attend to all the arrangements.
( What kind of barbaric institution won't give you time off to mourn and arrange the funeral of a family member? Remind me never to apply for a job there- where ever it is...) I don't know the details so I don't know if she was fired or just quit.
In any case, the Queen requested this job back- her old temp job, I mean. Everyone seems to be glad she is coming back...and I try to pretend that I am too...although I hopped up on a soapbox and asserted that it was unfair of her new job to be so mean, and that she should go straight to the top and fight, fight, FIGHT for her job. People seemed to agree, but as the Queen herself was not there, I'm afraid my well intentioned advice will not do a shred of good. Nice try, Claire.
So, as far as I know, come Monday, she will be back in the building and I shudder in my inmost being- and in my outermost too- because we now have three- count them: one, two,THREE- empty computers in our part of the office. And I just KNOW that, like a moth to the flame, she is going to move in RIGHT NEXT TO ME. Just wait. I am certain, without a SHADOW of a doubt, that I will report to you on Monday evening that, yes, indeed, I prophesied correctly. And if there is anything worse than the Queen of Talk, it is the bereaved Queen of Talk, who I should feel very sorry for, and indeed PRAY for, and be kind to...when all I want to do is get AS FAR AWAY from her as I can. Not just because she is obnoxious, and has a personality/background/style I cannot hope to ever understand, but also because, honestly, I don't know how to deal with the tragedy of those who do not have eternal hope. It is just too beyond me. I am mute and cold in its awful presence.
For me, it is almost too much to deal with the tragedies of those who DO have the hope of heaven, never mind the sadness of those who are ignorant of the spiritual world. I know that may seem cold and callous. After all, people who have gone through the unexpected loss of a loved one should be able to empathize in a unique way with others who find themselves in the same sad circumstance, right? But sometimes, to be quite honest, I feel that I have had my fill of certain kinds of sadness for now, and I am incapable of taking in anybody else's. It's like I'm a sponge that is just starting to dry out after being waterlogged for a very long time, so when I spy some water, I just want to RUN like crazy. I'd like to cancel my unwanted membership in the Suffering Club and get as far away from it as possible.
So my soul is hoping for a very lengthy seeming weekend and a nourishing Sabbath. And I'm also thinking I should probably borrow Nate's noise cancellation headphones for the upcoming week. I could have used those today, by the way, because the latest fad in the office is to tune the radio to The Reverend Al Sharpton's radio show. No comment except for: Deliver me.
8 comments:
I can relate so much to the sponge part . . . I've been there. Can you wear iPod ear buds or something like that while you're working? Maybe she won't talk as much if she know that you're listening to music. :-)
Russell's dad has these really great industrial noise cancelling headphones. I'm not sure how this is possible, but they work so well that you really CANNOT hear even yourself talking. Just for fun, we took turns wearing them and using an air horn right next to the wearer's head. Couldn't hear it at all. Which made me very thankful for my hearing. :)
About the doggie ear wax...would you like to go spelunking in my dog's ears too?!?! You're very welcome to do so!! If you're ever in the glorious midwest, feel free to drop by!! We have all the Q-tips you'd ever need, you can even have some for the road just in case Brad needs a good cleaning. :P
Lawrence is a fairly medium sized place (especially when the 30,000 KU students are around...we cherish summers), and I just don't get out much. hehe I'll try to be in any future commercials featuring Lawrencians (or whatever we're called). :)
Yeah... I know what you mean. You'd think we'd theoretically know what to say, but there are still no words -- especially when there isn't that common ground of known-if-not-seen hope. oy. Maybe it'll be one of those times when if you're supposed to do or say something, God will just place it gently into your lap without you having to get drenched.
Praying for grace... (and heavy-duty sound barriers where needed)
Al Sharpton is a hoot!
The Rev. Al spoke at my school earlier this year. He was interesting.
Call me Didymus if you want, but my first reaction to the news of this woman losing her mother to a car accident was to doubt its validity. What better way to get your old job back after learning you hate your new job or were fired at it than to come up with such a story? It sounds suspicious because I don't know of any company who wouldn't let you leave for your mother's funeral!
Is this woman capable of such a tale? Though it's pure speculation on my part (see what working with teenagers does to you?), I think you should be on the lookout for any sign of a scheme. But be compassionate and all that if it isn't, or maybe even if it is...
Claire--
I made up this great song that I used to sing all the time to Clyde when he was excessively pesky. It was a perfectly exasperating way of saying "I'm ignoring you!" It's to the tune of "On Top of Old Smokey" and the lyrics are usually some sort of improvised version of
"I wonder where Clyde is, out under the sun...I wonder where Clyde is..."
It's accompanied by looking right "through" the annoying person, or all around them, but never seeing them or acknowledging their presence.
If the QoT opens her mouth, just start singing it, with her name substituted, of course. Works like a charm.
After all, the best defense is a good offense. :-)
(Unless, of course, she truly is miserable instead of annoying, in which case just use Nate's headphones.)
Claire, this is the third time I've been to this post, but the other two times I was struck dumb with (a) the eloquence of your opening lines and (b) the lack of anything brilliantly comforting to say.
So I'm still struck dumb, but I love you!
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