I’ve been thinking about the interchange between Kathleen and Joe from the movie You’ve Got Mail a lot in the last few days.
Joe: It’s not…personal.
Kathleen: What is that supposed to mean? I’m so sick of that. All that means is that it wasn’t personal to you. But it was personal to me. It’s personal to a lot of people. And what’s so wrong with being personal anyway?
Joe: Uh, nothing.
Kathleen: Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal.
I often hear from friends and family that I shouldn’t take things so personally. But, in recent months there’s this part of me that can’t help it. Especially at work, when people flip me the bird or tell me I don’t look old enough to serve alcohol or tease me about my height. My time at work takes away days and days from my friends and family. I’m sometimes on the aircraft for 12 or more hours in a day leaving no time to even talk to someone who cares about me. So, ya, when I don’t get that Saturday off that I asked for to celebrate my mom’s birthday or spend time with my husband, it’s personal. When I spend time cleaning up the poop that’s been smeared all over the back lavatory instead of having time to read a book or have a warm meal at home, it’s personal. I know you could fault me for taking this job in the first place but, to be honest, I had no idea it would be this hard.