I should have called. It couldn't have hurt. Even if I walked in the door 2 minutes later. Even if the outcome was the same, which it probably would have been, at least I would've covered all my bases.
I don't know why I reneged on this simple rule I made for myself a long time ago, when I realized it was a chronic issue: always call if you are going to be late, even by 2 minutes. Even if you were late the day before. ALWAYS. Then, you did the right thing, made a bad situation maybe a little better - and you also get to see what people's attitudes about lateness are, how big of a transgression it is to them.
It also shows people that you understand that it is not something that is okay. People appreciate this and are more willing to forgive and say, "it's okay," even though right before you called, it absolutely wasn't.
And you have to face your embarrassment about being late, which deters it from happening again.
I feel like I have let everyone down.
Adam, who has endless patience and has kept me afloat for months;
Mom and Dad, who were so happy I had a job when I saw them this weekend;
Jesse, my brother, who said "it's about time [you got a job]";
Amanda and Mary Elizabeth, my sisters who were excited about how well it was going and how relatively lucrative it would be;
my roommate, who shall remain nameless, has been less than understanding while I struggled to find a job (even though she works for free - more on this later);
Eda, who rooted for me all this time and told me to just persevere, forgave me even when I wasn't trying hard enough, promised me that it would get better - and was so excited for me when there was hope.
What a disappointment.
No comments:
Post a Comment