The XX

I get an email from Stylish Female Colleague, thanking me for something I have done for her. She signs off with an "x". Stylish Female Colleague is impressively self-contained; indeed I would describe her as a "cool customer". "x" sign-offs are not her norm, so I:

a) notice this addition instantly, and
b) feel disproportionately grateful

My gratitude stems from the fact that for a very long time I was led to believe that no-one I worked with liked me, and that I was deeply unpopular. And trust me, if you are told this often enough, you start to believe it is true.

It's February 2012, and I have been on sick leave for almost four weeks.

The reason which my GP has kindly cited on my first sick note is "stress due to work-related bullying" (as he said at the time, having sat opposite me while I cried hysterically for half an hour, "I am going to write down something which may help you". Bless him.)

Although his subsequent sick notes refer only to 'work-related stress" he has indeed helpfully put the cat among the pigeons, as now The Hierarchy are all of a flurry to prove that I am a neurotic fantasist. My GP's sick notes have also given me the gift of space and time away from the workplace so that I can start to rebuild some resilience and re-assess my relationship to work.

I am starting to feel the teensiest bit better when The Postman Knocks...

When I open the envelope and withdraw a 'Get Well Soon" card from my colleagues, I feel as threatened as if one of The Jackals has just broken into my house and started stalking me down the hallway with a knife.

It looks as though the card has been initiated by Politician's Daughter, so I can only conclude that it is kindly meant on the whole. She has written the most prominent message and it seems genuine. There are friendly messages from colleagues - many a bit baffled, as they don't appear to know why I am off. And there are some significant coded messages from The Decent People, who know exactly why I am off  (because, naturally, I am in regular communication with them....)

But there are three other messages on the card which make me feel sick. Literally.

Line Manager - who has done everything possible to discredit and undermine me - writes:

"Best wishes Katharine, hope to see you back soon".

Spiteful Manager - whose irrational hatred of me extends to persuading other colleagues not to speak to me - scrawls:

"Hope to see you soon and that you are getting better".

Finally Remora - about whom I am currently incapable of writing anything at all - has put:

"Get well soon! (Anonymous Borough) is not the same without you".

Looking at it now, I can see a degree of black humour in the fact that The Unholy Trinity were compelled to write something on my card, as otherwise it would have Looked Odd. I can just picture each of them hunched over the card while Politician's Daughter waited to pass it to the next person, wracking their brains in the effort to find something suitably anodyne and inoffensive to add; and yet absolutely determined not to say anything which might suggest friendly relations. (Thankfully they all decided to avoid adding an "x" like others have done - because that would be taking hypocrisy just a leetle too far....)

Then I start to think about "xx". Because I use it a lot too in texts and emails, and I suppose it is a type of shorthand, casually communicating to other people that I accept, like and respect them.

So now I am looking at the card again, 8 months down the line, and Golly, I see a lot of "xx"s in it which I didn't really notice at the time. Because all I saw was the 3 sentences above.

It's quite a nice card on the whole.
I'm quite glad I kept it now...