If I died, I wonder
who would miss me. I imagine people would show up at my
funeral, even my vaguest acquaintances could do that. But who would actually
care? The sad truth of it is that the majority of the people
that would probably care are at work. They'd probably miss me, but not for the
right reasons.
It's not because they've developed a life-long friendship with me or because I touched
their lives in some way. No it's because they wouldn't have someone to ask
their questions and even worse...they'd have to divvy up my workload among them. I have actually been
told by several people (not in jest) that I can't leave my job; not because they'd miss my smile, or laugh, or witty
sense of humor; but because I'm the only one that will take time to help them.
I'm constantly being
used, and nobody really cares to get to know me in the process. It's sad. On
the flip side, I need more true friends. People that don't care what I do for a
living or what I can do for them.
1 comment:
I remember when we had this conversation, I remember the sensational collision in my mind of not really caring because (well... dead) I wouldn’t know and really caring because it’s something kind of different to effectively vanish without much more impact than a two week inconvenience to work mates. I remember listening to your thinking and knowing that we had a shared perspective. I saw, and still see in these musings, a thoughtfulness about the world that is enough to make a case that you will not die unnoticed.
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