I know somebody and they cry for you

Damn you, Phillips. You made me cry today at work. My normally professional, stoic self melted into a wet-faced, embarrassed, business-casual lump at a desk. One of my superiors came in to discuss upcoming projects and then noted that my door was closed and said she was worried about me. I’m “understandably depressed” and apparently it is displayed to others by my hermit-like behavior. I didn’t tell her that my door was closed because I was finishing my taxes on my lunch break. By the way, filing taxes in two states is a pain in the ass, especially if one of them is New Mexico and their forms make no sense. Anyway, I felt that my door being closed did not mean I was depressed, but as she looked at me I knew tears were coming and there was nothing I could do to stop them. She was right. There are things that I think and feel that I can’t control or understand. I wasn’t wailing or blubbering, just letting saltwater ooze quietly from my eyes. Usually any tears at work are from reading Heifer International e-mails telling me what a huge impact a calf has had on a boy in Armenia and how the quadruped is his best friend (this was in my inbox today), and these messages make me get misty-eyed because they are so inspiring. But today’s tears came before I had even read Heifer’s monthly plea for money. You are ruining my reputation, dude.

To cheer myself up, I have brought out another clip from one of our conversations, as saved in Carriequotes:

March 27, 2003
Stacey: “It smells like something is burning.”
Carrie: “My loins.”