Ironman

when the faculty made changes to seating arrangements during a period of hospitalization leave, I was among those reassigned to a row that consisted entirely of women... I did not raise any objections at all because it was a directive, and I believed that management must have had their own reasons... even though I felt uncomfortable, I chose to accept it... the row was quite cramped, and I had to be mindful of boundaries... moreover, being surrounded by women in that row, there was naturally a tendency for gossiping, backbiting, and sharing stories about others... because of my presence, they probably had to continue their conversations elsewhere - which, in a way, was a good thing, as it reduced the chances of engaging in gossip while I was around...

in truth, I was just waiting for the right time to move, while also finding a solid reason to do so... since the dean would be leaving soon, I deliberately made movements in and out of the row, as if the passage was inconvenient for me... I appreciate that some people noticed my discomfort; typical of indirect communication, they made remarks in a joking but loud manner, supported by others in the row... I responded in the same tone, raising my voice as well... I made it clear that I did intend to move - it was only a matter of timing, especially out of respect for the dean’s decision until his final day...

when I learned that the person in front of me was being transferred due to an appointment as a Program Leader in Accounting, I reassured them not to worry, saying that I would relocate that very day... I also stirred things slightly by openly saying that I was not particularly fond of being in that row, and that it did not match my level - perhaps a subtle response to their earlier remarks...

today, I came in early and moved immediately... in the end, everything was resolved... I felt a sense of peace being in my new place - naturally, among the men’s row... the Ironman row, not the Ironlady row with full of drama queen...