Getting dressed Monday morning I thought to myself that today was the day when my office-mates would finally ask me about diabetes. Over the weekend workers moved our entire 120ish-person workforce from one not-yet-renovated building into temporary quarters in the newly renovated building.

As I unpacked my box, I gingerly tacked my "cure diabetes" pin from Beth onto my cube wall near my computer screen, my bag of emergency Jelly Belly's went onto the open shelf above my computer along with popcorn, granola bars, juice boxes and sugar-free cough drops. Something is bound to tip them off, I thought.

There was a lot of noise and chatter as we all got settled in. I'm in an area where four of us are in one big cube with our own space but no privacy. Again, I really thought someone would notice and say something as I checked my sugar throughout the day and beep, beep, beeped my way through snacks. Nothing.

This should all be OK, right? On one hand this shows that I'm living normally, adding a sprinkle of diabetes here and there without notice, integrating it into my normal daily activities. I'm managing my sugar and not making a big deal of this little slice of my life.

On the other hand, shouldn't people notice these little differences between me and them? Shouldn't they hear the beeps and boops of my life? Of course, maybe they do and they don't want to ask because it may be seen as an intrusion. Or maybe no one has really seen me do anything. But, jeez, I wear Toohey so practically prominent! It's like a big belt buckle! OK not really, but seriously, why has only one person said: Is that your iPod?

And on the third hand, the bigger question in my mind is why this matters so much to me.