Not Again

I injured myself a few minutes ago, pulling a large cart of parts out to the floor. I banged my left hand really hard against a wall while towing the cart. There’s discoloration and I broke the skin slightly.

I guess I should report it. I’m flippin’ embarrassed that it happened. They’re going to think I’m a huge liability.

Ray must be up and down those office stairs like 100 times a day. He came down and was hanging out for a minute, waiting for someone, near Eddie’s cubicle, although Eddie wasn’t in it, behind where I was sitting, probably so he wouldn’t have to talk to me.

I cannot get my head around him being married. I try to picture him hitting on a girl and I start giggling out loud. I guess it just goes to show, though, there’s someone out there for everyone. Well, let’s hope so.

Maybe he’s just antisocial with me, though. But why??

The few times he’s actually had to talk to me, his voice has sounded much deeper, too. Compared to when he talks to, like, Sherrie, or his guys, or really anyone else. What is that about?

I really need to stop obsessing over people who don’t like me. I did this with Sally at TJ Maxx, too. I stopped for a while with Ray because I usually never see him. But this week I’ve seen him like a gazillion times because he’s in and out of the warehouse.

It can’t be that I’m “new,” because I’m not. And he hires and deals with new people all the time.

God, why do I endlessly care? I need to get over this. But I’m 44. Getting over it at this point seems unlikely.

I just want people to like me, and when they don’t, I most often want to know why. There are a few people whom I can honestly say I do not care if they don’t like me. One of them is my nemesis. The other is my ex-uncle. But that’s about it. Otherwise, I am constantly on a mission for approval.

Got to go.

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