Someone I know once told me about a self-help book called That’s Okay! (if you’re reading this, whoever you are, please remind me it was you). The title of each chapter started with, “Sometimes you…” and ended with “And that’s okay!” The spectrum of emotional validation the chapters provided was quite disturbing:
Sometimes you get hurt…and that’s okay!
Sometimes you do the hurting…and that’s okay!
Sometimes others are selfish…and that’s okay!
Sometimes you are selfish…and that’s okay!
No, sometimes you do the hurting and that’s not okay. I remember telling Ruth about this and laughing somewhat melancholically about the blatant mistruth it was sending out into the universe. We started making jokes like “Sometimes you fall asleep sitting up…and that’s okay!” Sometimes you eat your brother’s Cheetos…and that’s okay! Sometimes you screen your boss’s calls…and that’s okay!” Of course the irony here is that sometimes you do things that are not okay at all, like peeing in the pool or telling the kid’s parents that you were babysitting for that no, you have no idea where they got the gum that ended up in their hair.
I worked a 12 hour day today, as has been becoming quite common recently. Normally when I work a long day, I do it not because I have to or because I’ve got too much to handle in 8 to 10 hours, but because I would rather work a long but satisfying day and get everything done than leave loose ends for the next morning. On days like these, I choose to work late because I am enjoying work and quite honestly have nothing to go home to. Today was not one of those days. I worked a 12 hour day today because I had to, and because I was STRESSED.
I left the office at 8 p.m., but only made it about 10 or 20 steps before sitting down on the curb and having a breakdown. Everything had gone wrong. What had been a frustrating day ended in an hour long discussion with a suspicious client accusing me of charging him double interest, inflating his loan amount, and all-together aiming to take advantage of he and his family. This was especially upsetting because I have spent probably 5 hours a week working to accommodate this particular client’s situation and assure that he and his family can take out a water tank loan that is affordable for them. He wasn`t suited with any of the payment plans I offerred him. Usually we offer one payment plan: take it or leave it. But his family really needed the loan, and I dealt with his waffling for weeks as I worked to design a loan he could benefit from. Of course not all clients will love you or the product that you (so lovingly and laboriously) designed, and I know not to take it personally.
But I sat on the curb and I cried. It was more of a gentle weeping at first—at least until I thought about how sad it was that I was crying on the side of the street. A kid on a bike clearly made for someone double his size stared at me as he rode by, smacking his bubblegum and looking scared. As I pulled myself together and started walking toward the bus stop, I couldn’t help but smile as I thought, Sometimes you sit down on the curb and cry…and that’s okay!
I think in this case it really might be. Tina Fey describes crying at work in her new book, Bossypants (which I highly recommend, by the way):
“And then I sobbed in my office for ten minutes. The same ten minutes that magazines urge me to use for sit-ups and triceps dips, I used for sobbing. Of course I’m not supposed to admit that there is triannual torrential sobbing in my office, because it’s bad for the feminist cause. It makes it harder for women to be taken seriously in the workplace. It makes it harder for other working moms to justify their cause. But I have friends who stay at home with their kids and they also have a triannual sob, so I think we should call it even. I think we should be kind to one another about it.”
Somehow it makes me feel better that Tina Fey has also cried at work. Triannually, in fact! Tina Fey works her dream job, and I’m working about as close to my dream job as possible for a recent college grad with no work experience in the most devastating financial crisis since the Great Depression. So here’s to crying at work. If you don’t care enough to cry about it once in a while, you probably don’t care enough.
