First To Know, First To Not Care
“You’ll be the first to know”.
People say dumb things like this for effect all the time. Prior to this past week, I used to think that such a line had at least some measure of value. It turns out that in the end, it means absolutely nothing.
Maybe the people who say it think it sounds cute? Maybe they’re dead serious when they say it? Maybe it’s one of the biggest crocks of shit that can come out of a person’s mouth? Yeah, I’m thinking that it’s all the above.
Sometimes it’s not even the contents of the message. Sometimes it’s the manner how and in which the message is delivered.
I had been well aware that she had been looking to leave our office. That, in and of itself, was not news. For whatever the reason and much like Kim, she had been unhappy there. She had mentioned to me some weeks ago of her intent to look for something elsewhere. When she told me what she was doing, I didn’t chime in with any kind of deep response or with any kind of insight. She had already made her decision to leave. There was nothing that I could have said or done to sway her or even change her mind. I left it alone.
She then hit me with that clever line, similar to the one I mentioned above when I started this entry and I’m paraphrasing here.
When something happens, you’ll be the first to know.
Again, this line proved to be a big crock of shit because in the end, I was not the first person to know. I wasn’t even close to being that first person.
She’s in the process of making a transfer request to another office. This past Friday, she had every opportunity to let me in on that, that same day even, and ultimately never did. I had to find out from someone who was looking to help her put in that transfer request.
She wanted to get upset with me because of how I reacted, like somehow, I did something wrong. I was just sitting there when I found out. What the fuck did I do? I didn’t do anything. I will acknowledge that in the end, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but how was I supposed to know what was coming?
Then, in another feeble attempt to somehow quell the situation, she proceeds to tell me via text message:
I figured you wouldn’t be happy if I left.
What difference does that make anyway? I can’t control whether she stays or goes. All I can do is deal with whatever happens and move on from it.
At this point and I told her this. I don’t care if she leaves.
She didn’t care enough to make me that proverbial first person to know, so in the end, I’m not going to waste any of my time, energy, effort, or resources on this situation. She can tell everyone else and just leave me out of it.
Then and in ending our text conversation on Friday, she says:
When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here.
I reply:
You’re gonna be waiting a while.
Why in the hell would I be in any hurry to talk to her? I am in no particular rush to do so.
Truly, I am not. There’s no reason for me to exert myself and I’m not going to.
I’ll be the first to know, huh? Yeah, fuck that.
Her words again have proven to mean very little, if anything.