I'm not sure about the rest of America, but one of the reasons I love the show Grey's Anatomy so much, besides the clever writing and beautiful people, is the gut-wrenching angst and relatability of their situation. No, I don't save lives for a living. In fact, in response to all our bosses running about stressing over some minute scheduling delay, one of my favorite bosses once exclaimed "Just chill out people. It's not brain surgery. We make cartoons for a living! No one's gonna live or die if this doesn't get done." Doesn't sound like the strongest thing for a work ethic, but I've kept that motto in my head ever since.
Anyway, I digress.
The small group of main characters all work, date, live, and breathe in each other's presence. Bosses, exes, friends, and enemies are forced to be around each other ALL the time. You may think, "ah, that's because it's a TV show. That's why they don't leave that pool of people." Not so. Not so at all.
I read a magazine poll that said something like 38% met their significant other at the workplace, about 34% through friends, and maybe 10% or less at a bar. Only 2-3% found relationships online, about the same percentage as randomly meeting someone at a bookstore or a park out of pure serendipity. Of course, this is the same magazine that said the average woman owns about 30 pairs of shoes, so yes, according to all of its statistics, I fit in quite well in the "normal" category. Whoo hoo!
On the last episode of Grey's, the main character, Meredith exclaimed "You're everywhere!" to her ex, just like her ex's ex said to her when she was crying in the closet. (it's a complicated love triangle) And of course, there's nothing they can do about it. They've made their bed and now they have to lie in it, so to speak.
They are everywhere. I work with them, I eat with them, I take classes with them, I celebrate birthdays with them, and I watch movies and attend dinner parties with them. I tell myself that I'll be fine. I tell my friends I feel fine. I'm being strong and sucking it up. But I know subconsciously, it's probably damaging my psyche in the long run. Maybe it's out of convenience. Or maybe because I can't quite let go nor delicately extricate myself. I'm stubborn as all hell and refuse to compromise what work ethic and pride I do have by collapsing into a heap or quitting my job until I 100% believe that the reasons are purely professional.
I try my hardest not to complain to my weary friends, even if it doesn't seem that way. I try to coop it up inside because even I'm sick of hearing myself talk about the same fretful, stupid things. I made my bed, and boy am I lying in it. Yet, I don't have any regrets because I'd probably do it the same foolish way all over again. The hopeful romantic in me needs to be stabbed with a fork.
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Maybe you love the show because, as a tear-jerker, it provides a good excuse to have that emotional release. Some shows are reliable in that they get you to cry nearly every time. But, of course, you'd have to be able to relate to feel anything.
I'm lucky: I don't have to work with anyone that I've ever dated. Doing so would make concentrating that much harder. You must have some great focusing abilities.
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