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Tuesday, June 11, 2002.
Entry #160
Despite what people may
think, I have some problems making friends.
This
may surprise those of you who know me in person. I like to think
that people find me personable and funny. A lot of people have trusted
me enough over the years to confide in me over various losses and
broken hearts. And I like to think the number of people I've made
enemies of is very, very small.
I have some very good friends,
who are enormously dear to me and who have seen me through some
of the roughest times of my life. I have a wide circle of acquaintances,
people I like to see often and have a fun with. I get a lot of hugs,
which is good, and see a lot of smiles, which is even better.
So why can't I make friends
at work?
I just can't. I can sit
with these people day in, day out, for years, and never get beyond
being a nodding acquaintance.
When people go for lunch,
I only get invited if the whole office is going. No one stops by
my desk to chew the fat or gossip. If I come out of a private meeting
with the Boss, no one comes over to ask in hushed tones why. And
I get the feeling that if there is ever an office conflict, I'm
not going to have anyone backing me up, despite how good at my job
I am.
I can't say it's because
we don't share interests. When I worked for the Cool Independent
ISP (now a wholly owned subsidiary of Amalgamated WeOwnEverything
Corp.), most of my coworkers were technoholics with interests in
gaming and the online world. But beyond the few friends I had there
before I started work, I came out with only one person who actually
called me after I quit. That guy became my boss at my next job,
and we've since lost touch pretty much entirely.
There was the artist back
at UWannaWhat. We saw each other outside the office a couple times,
I got him his job at Cool ISP, we did a bit of independent work,
and then I haven't really talked to him in a couple years.
I want to go out for drinks
after work. I want to carry my golf clubs in the trunk so a couple
of us can hit the driving range at noon. I want to hear gossip and
share stupid news stories. I want to hunker over my desk and bitch
about the boss and complain about the cooks putting chickpeas in
my burrito. I want to have someone to chat with at the various management-organized
shmooze-fests so I don't have to stand quietly in the corner with
my Dixie cup, cheese cubes and napkin and try to look like I fit
in.
I figure there has to be
something different about who I am at work. Some aspect of my personality
that transforms me from loveable goof into boring work guy. From
someone you want to go for coffee with to someone you have to worry
about overhearing your personal phone calls.
And I don't know how to
remedy that.
Oh, and here's pictures
of Lisa and myself courtesy of the South
Park Studio.
 
One Year Ago Today:
I was still on hiatus, but in 1947, WWII sugar rationing finally
ended.
Mom
Rating: 1 out of 5. Mom knows I didn't have many friends
as a small child, but you shouldn't dwell on the past.
Previous: Delay
on Account of Phlegm
Next: Mid-Week
Rush
Take
me home, big fella
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