I made it to work about 45 minutes early yesterday because I had to take the dogs to the kennel. Since I had that time banked, I got the hell out of dodge 30 minutes early today. (So much for saving it for Friday!). I came into work in a fucking exuberant mood. I'd just heard They Might Be Giants' song Birdhouse in Your Soul. It is 100% impossible to not be in an awesome mood after rocking down the road to this song. I mean, I was ready to do cartwheels and high 5 the boss.
That was at 9 AM.
9:05 AM: Found fax from restaurant re: payroll problem they didn't reveal to me yesterday.
9:20 AM: Manager in Training comes to visit re: paycheck being too light. As if that's my fault. Totally 100% the fault of the training director. I tell him to speak to that person and to let me know what to do.
Before lunch, I was still clinging to the good mood. C'mon, Elaine, remember! "Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch, who watches over you? Make a little birdhouse in your soul!"
At lunch, I bought a soda and read the end of a dorky chicklit book. It was so nice to be alone I didn't want to go back in. I practically was in a panic state, realizing that the 60 minutes of a lunch break sooner or later ends. I sat in the car, visualizing outcomes – handing in a resignation letter, calling D and making her come get my ass, calling Gene and telling him I just could not make it back there ever.
I talk once in awhile about how something was a Triumph of the Will-sized effort. This was one of those times. I wanted so badly to turn left out of that parking lot onto the street, turn right onto the street at the intersection and go the fuck on home. Maybe if I crawled into bed and cast all the telephones into the back yard I wouldn't have to answer the phone and be responsible for my actions and just be quiet.
So, endgame: Went back to the office. Ate 4 bowls of salad. (We had leftover training buffet at the office and there was this huge tray of cobb salad that I just could not leave well enough alone).
Oh, and: job interview, 4/14. Actually, calling it a job interview is a bit much. It's really just a meeting with a temp agency.