Growing up, i had a friend named Jimmy Armarker. Mind you, Jimmy and i were reasonably close and (as boys often do) we both still bear the scars to prove it. i've not really kept up with Jimmy over the years, mostly since we sort of drifted apart somewhere around fifth grade.
Oddly enough, that was about the same time that i cracked.
Jimmy, aside from being a generally swell guy, liked hanging out at my house. A lot. Probably because he came from a large family and my house was significantly quieter a better portion of the time. (i'd also like to think it was because of my large assortment of LEGO, but then that's probably just me.)
One day, while Jimmy and i were assembling a fusion reactor out of plastic Danish blocks, i started having a discussion with him. Well, not him per se, since i wasn't actually using my vocal chords, but i was muttering about in my pre-teen mind why it was that my bestest friend was hanging around my house, day after day, month after month, year after year. i mean, he had a nifty house, and frankly better toys than i had. He even had a yard we could chuck Frisbees at each other for hours at. It also wasn't like i was a shut-in, i mean, i would walk on over, meet him and then we'd wind up still coming back to my place to play. Crepes on a pony. The guy's always here. i should start charging him rent fer cryin' out loud. He's got his own freaking room, his parents are nice. Is he afraid of going home? Is he embarrassed about it? Why the heck are we always here?
Finally, i cracked, unable to hold back the edging curiosity that filled me, and to the general surprise of all who were not involved in that mental monologue. i asked "Well Jimmy, why don't you go home?"
Jimmy sat staring at me for a few moments, trying to understand the question. i was no help. Heck, i'd gone over every argument in minute detail. His general lack of mind-reading skill wasn't my problem.
So Jimmy went home, and i got justifiably yelled at by my Mom for being rude.
Needless to say, that incident tends to haunt me. Particularly lately.
For reasons i'm not sure i understand, i seem to have become a human magnet for folks right about the same time that i've gotten more stuff i need to do. Normally, either is welcome since i tend to be both social and be able to bury myself into several tasks, but as of late, i seem to be growing irritated by the number of interruptions.
i work in a cube so it's not like i can close the door, put on my headphones and ignore the world, partly because there's been a few times where i've gotten half of a question or comment directed toward me. i'd work from home except that a lot of what i do requires face to face (or face to phone) and it's far easier to give out my work phone than to forward it to my house.
So for now, i'm putting up with the work distractions. Since i don't want to be rude and tell people to go away.
After all, that's the reason i have a Wildfire and forty darts.
