Don’t Judge a Book

We all know we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. But why not? Isn’t it fun creating someone’s story based on her appearance? Or car? Or job? Or one thing she’s said? Or that one thing she did when she was a teenager? I love taking a snippet of a scene and generating an uneducated, biased fact about that person. It brings me joy.

Several years ago I had a job and HATED it. I mean, H-A-T-E-D  it. I loved the work, but hated the company. It was probably the worst place to work in the history of employment. Really. It was that bad. My continued anxiety disorder and posttraumatic stress disorder can vouch for that (“As long as we have a voucher!”).  The nucleus of this monstrosity of a company was the Executive Management, which trickled down to Management, then to Lower Management then to the all-mighty workers. And it was Lower Management I had the problem with. Mostly because I had to see and interact with them every day.

My direct supervisor appeared to not like me. I would smile at her and say “hi” in the hallways and rarely got a response. (My constant calling-in-sick and pissed-off demeanor may have had something to do with this.) She was really good at her job and beautiful, but impossible to connect with. I tried to be all Aimee on her and it wasn’t working. I mean, what was wrong with this woman? Hello? Do you know me? I’m awesome. You should like me. After about nine months we moved into a swanky building in North San Jose with individual offices. We were moving from an office where four people shared a cubical (Good-bye Guy Who Cuts Finger Nails at Desk!!!). Totally excited for this new move and an individual office… and who do I get sat next to? That’s right, my direct supervisor. Oh, boy.

Let me tell you. This move was the best move of my life. I can’t remember the exact moment it happened, but my supervisor and I just clicked. Oh, wait. Maybe it happened before we even moved. (Side note: we moved while I was on leave for my wedding and honeymoon.) Before I left for my wedding I was talking to her about wedding bands – I hadn't gotten mine yet. I was telling her about this plain band I liked that only cost $95.00. She told me I needed diamonds in my band and not to get a plain band. That was it. Diamonds. We clicked over diamonds. I did need a diamond band – screw you plain band!!!

After I returned from becoming an honest woman, I mean, getting married, my supervisor and I began talking more. Forced to sit next to her actually helped us bond – that and our mutual obsession, I mean, ahem, admiration, for Suze Orman and Oprah Winfrey. I learned so much about her. She hated her job – which is why she seemed unhappy and distant (we definitely bonded over that). She had a young son who suffered frequent seizures and was in and out of the hospital. Her husband had returned to school and she was the sole financial provider of the family all while hospital bills were piling up and diagnoses were left unmade. She had an incredible burden on her shoulders. She loathed her job – she was treated worse than us peons, she had a terribly sick son, she was a wife, a mother, a daughter, a boss… the list goes on. I thought this woman had a rough exterior and didn't have much emotion; little did I know she was the exact opposite.

In this case, I wrongly judged this woman. My heart breaks for all that she has been through. This woman is the most caring, supportive, funny, loving, beautiful human being I know. She gives and gives and gives and always looks fabulous doing it. Really, I can’t even blow-dry my hair in the morning and this chick is dressed to the nines with homemade brownies in hand. Five years later, I can put this woman on my “Call at Any Time, for Any Reason” list. She has become one of my dearest friends and I will love her forever. I wrongly judged her and feel bad for doing so. 

Aside from this one instance though, it is completely acceptable to judge people.