1 June 2012

An Alien in the Office

‘You’re glowing’, said the receptionist at work. I cringed. It’s not the first time that someone has said this to me. Even though I’m more tired than I’ve ever been in my life, my skin is robust and glistening. Of course this isn’t remotely natural. The radiation is still working its way through my body and is turning me into a microwave oven. I am emitting something that has nothing to do with my DNA, and it has turned me into an alien.

Get Me Outa Here!
Of course, that’s exactly how I feel. Someone who has landed on earth but is not quite wired like the rest of them.  I’ve been plucked up from normalcy,  rebuilt (mentally and physically), and then put back down into my life.  Sort of like the Bionic Woman, but without the supersonic hearing and extra strong right arm. Rather than Lindsay Wagner in her high waisted jeans, I’m a little lost space person from a foreign land, wearing Janet's clothes,  and hiding under a smart little hat.

Only one man at work knows my true identity, and I only told him out of necessity. I couldn’t think of any other way to explain why I was going to be doing the least amount of work possible. He’s my direct boss, and I barely know him, but figured he had to know.  Anyway, he’s been very nice about things and incredibly un-demanding.  We’ve haven't chatted much, but I’ve already learned that he’s adopted. A detailed he volunteered, I think, because he thinks he thought he owed me something. It’s funny when you tell someone about your inner alien, they want to show you their inner alien too.

Most of my other colleagues just want to comment on my hair. Even though I always wear a hat, the drastic change is obvious. Everybody has an opinion, and like a good alien, I stand politely while people decide whether or not my hairdo meets their approval (reviews are mixed).

This is a far cry from my life at non-work, where everybody knows all about me. My friends, my family, my nurses, all take everything in stride. Nobody questions why I wear the same clothes everyday or go to bed at 9. Also, amongst my people my hair is never a big deal, and every itsy-bitsyy baby step is met with applause and approval. This is my planet; the cozy environment that is my home, and the loved ones that support me. But for now I am back at work. And everyone is friendly and seemingly happy to see me. But just as I feel like I might start to feel like I almost fit in, someone has something to say.

‘You look radiated!,’ was the last comment of the day from our accountant.  I stopped for a minute. Of course, what she was saying was ‘radiant.’ And I of course what she meant was that I am the medium for a bunch of energized particles. But I didn’t correct her.  Outside I may be glowing, but inside I just want to go home.

No comments:

Post a Comment