Robot99 pointed out a certain similarity in our appearances at our respective jobs.
Here he is at his office:
And here I am at mine:
Note the facial expressions, the black shirts, and the Skullcandy headphones. It’s a little bit crazy.
I work in a very nosy office. People here think nothing of asking some very personal questions. Of course, I’m not the most guarded of people (if I were, would I have this blog), and I’m not exactly offended. I just don’t see why they ask these questions in the first place. In the last week I’ve been grilled on what my living arrangements are, questioned on my future plans (or lack there of) to wed, and been interrogated in detail on my family planning objectives and methods. These people are all up in my uterus.
I blame our baby-centric society. If you doubt that our society is baby-centric, look no further than the celebrity blogs. A solid majority of the “news” they cover involves who may be pregnant, and once the celebs do have children, they post the latest paparazzi shot of the most mundane family outing.
There are no less than three expecting parents in my office of about 15, and 2 brand new moms. Congratulations to them. Mazel Tov, even. But seriously, stay out of my womb.
As I found myself at a loss for how to respond to these questions, I found myself being sucked further into the conversation. Again, I wasn’t offended, so I wasn’t sure how to respond. I also didn’t want my co-workers to feel guilty or like I was angry with them. I didn’t want to reprimand or berate them. I just wanted to change the subject.
It wasn’t until later, when I was rehashing the details with M, that I came upon the perfect response to any sort of questions pertaining to my intentions of child-rearing. I’m just going to say, “I don’t have any children,” regardless of the question. Armed with this, I felt that I had everything under control.
But then, this morning, one of my co-workers found something new to harp on. Apparently my being a vegetarian is very unhealthy for me. Who knew? Also, I’m going to die a terrible death from cancer because yesterday I microwaved my lunch in a plastic container. And this wasn’t just a single statement. He went on and on.
I should have just told him that I don’t have any children.