A hint of mascara on my cheek

Today at work I cried, I bet you didn't know that.  I mean, my co-workers had no idea...unless they noticed a hint of mascara on my left cheek.  It was so very faint but I could see it when I glanced at myself in my rearview mirror.  

It wasn't a long, drawn-out cry.  It was about a dozen or so tears.  

Why did I shed tears at work?  Because when I needed someone to not choose self, they chose to be selfish and left me all alone.

My co-worker at the window had gone to lunch.
I was going through WEEKS of timesheets to document specific hours spent on specific projects. 

While entering and calculating these hours, someone came to the window and rang the bell.

If you've not stopped in to see me at work, what a shame.  I will paint you a little picture.  I'm in a 3 1/2 walled cubicle.  I have an opening to let people in which I wish was a door.  I've thought about caution taping it so people know not to mess with me...like on days like today which was a payroll day plus this additional data entry.  I, also, thought about making co-workers go through a small chip placement - similar to what they do to cats and dogs adopted from the shelter.  But the chips, I (or a medical professional) would insert would be more like a mini-tazer so when my co-workers entered my cubicle, they would get a little shock.  I mean if that guy could train his dogs to salivate to the sound of a bell, surely a little shock would train my co-workers to call first before waltzing in to my cubicle.

I digress.

Sooooo in the midst of all of this typing and calculating, the doorbell rings.  I wait and listen in hopes that the other third of the admin trio would answer the doorbell.

No such luck.

I go to the window.  It's a friendly chap trying to get ahold of someone in another department.  I send him to the Visitor Info phone and return to my data entry.

Several minutes later the doorbell rings again.  Same scenario from above.  I wait 10 or 15 seconds, no co-worker to answer it.

By this point, I semi-storm out of my cubicle.  It's the same guy at the window.  {The poor guy.}  The person who he was calling sent him to voicemail (which I totally knew would happen).  He asked me to inter-office some pretty flyers about his company.  I took the flyers and bid him a swell day.

I, then, went back to my cubicle and shed the aforementioned tears.

My new personal policy is I'm done.  And now that I'm done, I'm going to be more direct and say, "I cannot answer the doorbell so when it rings, I need you to get it."

It seems so common sense.  I almost feel like this is one of those weird dreams that feels like it's real but it's not.  This above situation was my work day.