Imagine being confronted by an intense, yet respectful conversation, and it’s not one that you’re part of, but still one you have to hear as you don’t want to get up and walk away as it might make the whole thing super awkward.

I just had to turn into someone that didn’t exist, and it was odd. It was weird. It was uncomfortable. I just had to hear this whole thing about concerns in the workplace between two people, and there definitely was some reassurance which was great, but it was not something I ever wanted to be privy to.

And I know I could have just walked away, but as I said, I didn’t. It would’ve made the thing awkward. I had to pretend that I couldn’t hear it, but by golly could I hear it.

So I turned into furniture. I turned into a background object made for just decoration, and I don’t think it worked, but the conversation continued on. They kept talking about they felt they had to talk about, so that was good, at least. But I had to hear it all. I had to hear it and I felt some pain from it, because it was just this awkward, stressed conversation about reassurance and perhaps some remorse of action in there, too. But it seems like it was all okay in the end. Or maybe it didn’t, but at least there was confirmation of further action and steps to take and all of that stuff.

I’m sitting here and I never thought this would be something I’d end up exposed to, and I have to wonder what the thinking was when it came to where to have this conversation. They would’ve seen that I was here. they would’ve known that I was doing my thing, and they still chose to have it here. And sure, I became nothing. I became something not worthy of attention, but I still was here. I could still here the whole thing among the sounds I was experiencing, and that’s what I didn’t want to have. But they did it, I heard it, and now I’m here writing about it.

The space of the office and its participants are always interesting, but also not something I want to be part of when it comes to the politics. Of course it’s difficult not to, but this is something that really does not concern me, and yet now I am spectator. I cannot be camouflaged among the furniture. I cannot be inanimate and I cannot be unknowing now. However, of course none of it is my business and the chances are I’ll forget about it come the end of the day… assuming I even remember for that long.

At the very least, right now I am knowing and that’s not what I want to be. However, I have to be and I have to accept my role as spectator, despite my attention set elsewhere. A terrible burden to carry with me.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:03:81

Bit faster than the last, and continuing my process of writing things not worth writing about.

Written at work.