Today my colleague asked me, quite casually, how you were faring. I said fine. What was I supposed to say? That I've been working, on average, two extra hours a day since you started? So I said fine.
But then the woman clucked at me, like I had said something awful. "What?" I asked. "Can't you see when someone is stressed?" she said rhetorically. I frowned at her. Stressed?
I decided to clear things up.
"Are you stressed?" I barked in the general direction of the cubicle farm. You poked your head around the flimsy wall which interrupts my view of the office floor, but said nothing, damningly. "You really don't have to be stressed," I said, and you smiled at me like I had said something nice before disappearing back into your 6x6" box. I frowned, realizing that I should have been more clear.
What I meant was: Your work here does not merit being stressed. Were you to disappear on your next lunch break, we would all survive. I'm sure the receptionist would worry a bit, perhaps even send an email or two - maybe even call the cops, she's always overreacting. But the company would go on as before and we'd replace you in a week. That seems pretty low stress to me.
"See? He's stressed," said my colleague, like this was somehow all my fault.
I really need you to start looking more serene.
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