The world, or rather the people in it, will give you every reason to be cynical. It seems like every time I get overburdened with tasks and the people who make those tasks harder, something will happen to melt the cold-hearted troll right out of me.
I'll be in the middle of what is supposed to be a solitary task, simultaneously trying to focus on what I'm doing AND clear my head, when I'm interrupted by someone saying that there is someone here to talk to me. I might register some irritation outwardly and indicate that I'm in the middle of something, but the inside of my head practically explodes into a rant about not being able to get anything done and how people are always bothering me. "WHY?!?!" I'll shout, within the confines of my own skull. "Do they think I'm never busy?! That I've been waiting all day just to talk to them. I bet it's that whiny woman again, who wants to let me know that the hut she bought for her guinea pig won't fit through the door of the cage. Like it's somehow MY fault, like I'm supposed to think of EVERYTHING for her, and ask her, BEFORE she completes the purchase, if she's positive that the door of her cage is large enough to accommodate this particular house. WHY CAN'T PEOPLE JUST LEAVE ME AL-"
And, standing there, is a small child with a grin a mile wide, holding a picture that they drew. For me. The picture typically says something like "Thank you for Chub Chub!!!!", and depicts said pet in a yard full of distorted flowers, in front of a house with an illogically large door. I gush over the drawing, trying to disguise the fact that I can't tell, by looking at the picture, what species of animal "Chub Chub" is supposed to be.
The children sometimes thank me so sweetly that I wonder if they realize that their parents paid for the animal. But even in the case of adults, people love their pets so much that they develop a sense of gratitude towards whomever sold it to them. Even though the person was paid to do so.
Gratitude is awesome. Especially when it appears where it doesn't belong.
I'll be in the middle of what is supposed to be a solitary task, simultaneously trying to focus on what I'm doing AND clear my head, when I'm interrupted by someone saying that there is someone here to talk to me. I might register some irritation outwardly and indicate that I'm in the middle of something, but the inside of my head practically explodes into a rant about not being able to get anything done and how people are always bothering me. "WHY?!?!" I'll shout, within the confines of my own skull. "Do they think I'm never busy?! That I've been waiting all day just to talk to them. I bet it's that whiny woman again, who wants to let me know that the hut she bought for her guinea pig won't fit through the door of the cage. Like it's somehow MY fault, like I'm supposed to think of EVERYTHING for her, and ask her, BEFORE she completes the purchase, if she's positive that the door of her cage is large enough to accommodate this particular house. WHY CAN'T PEOPLE JUST LEAVE ME AL-"
And, standing there, is a small child with a grin a mile wide, holding a picture that they drew. For me. The picture typically says something like "Thank you for Chub Chub!!!!", and depicts said pet in a yard full of distorted flowers, in front of a house with an illogically large door. I gush over the drawing, trying to disguise the fact that I can't tell, by looking at the picture, what species of animal "Chub Chub" is supposed to be.
The children sometimes thank me so sweetly that I wonder if they realize that their parents paid for the animal. But even in the case of adults, people love their pets so much that they develop a sense of gratitude towards whomever sold it to them. Even though the person was paid to do so.
Gratitude is awesome. Especially when it appears where it doesn't belong.