Sometimes I feel guilty. Yes, I, a woman saved by grace and all that, feel guilty.
There are times, more often than not it seems, that I just don’t want to talk or listen to people. Why do they think I want to talk? First, I barely know them! And just because I’m sitting here, in a place where I cannot escape, trapped like a rat behind wood and technology, it means I want to listen and have a conversation - that I have nothing better to do? Do they think I really want to hear about their meeting traumas or the latest debacle in their internship/placement/class issues – all of course someone else’s fault? Do they really believe I know where everyone is at every moment of the day? Is it my problem that they now have to walk down to the post office a block away and have a package weighed and buy stamps there because we’re out because 20 other people expected us to do it for them too? And do they think I really care that people are dressed up for their events? People, do you have any idea how many events I’ve seen in the past 4 years and how so NOT excited it makes me anymore?
But all that doesn’t matter.
I know they just need to vent or are just trying to be nice.
And I feel guilty.
