We Circle

Dear J—

I speak with a few people on the way in to work on the train and the common thread – folks who work in the garage, or the hospital, or the construction site – is how readily they’ll admit it’s like junior high out there: the cliques, the petty backstabbing. Your social situation dictates circumstances, I suppose, but it’s funny how often that particular comparison comes up, like we haven’t moved beyond being thirteen and noticing the opposite sex for the first time while desperately trying to hide our own insecurities behind bombast and bluster.

My own work? I suppose, if you get down to it, though I’m sure we all treat each other with a great deal of respect; there’s still some who will hang out and lunch together, while others still will be eating at their desks, head down, computer up and no joke.



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