I got in trouble at work again this week and now I’m terrified that I’m going to be fired.
I gave my boss an attitude.
I didn’t mean to. I’m always sorry, because I never mean to, I swear (and swore to him), but saying sorry doesn’t help in this situation, and now I’m facing consequences.
He’s cut my serving shifts from five days a week to three, and I lost my two biggest money making days.
I’m scared. For a lot of reasons.
Primarily because I have to go in to work in four hours and face him to sign disciplinary paperwork and discuss whether I will have the opportunity to earn these shifts back with good behavior or if this is a permanent cut and I’ll need to find another job.
+ + +
A few weeks ago I had my first appointment with a new doctor to get back on anxiety medication for the first time in two years.
I’ve been okay for so long it seems – two relatively good years feels like a long time when you tend to be anxious and depressed.
I had my first panic attack in ages shortly after the second time my boss reprimanded me for my attitude. I sure won’t deny a possible correlation between the two events. I don’t want to blame the interactions I’ve had with my boss on my current spiral downwards, but…
One of the questions that the doctor asked me stood out in my mind:
“Do you get into trouble at work?”
I was ashamed to have to say yes. Embarrassingly frequently.
He mentioned that many bipolar patients have the same problem of not being able to hold back from speaking their mind in inappropriate ways, such as, to your boss.
I’m not bipolar. I’m pretty positive I’m just a nervous fucking wreck, and have had the sort of hard time in life that’s robbed me of the ability to eat shit from assholes.
I’m scared because after the initial shock and horror that I had once again failed to throw up the barrier between my brain and mouth, and after the ensuing half day waiting for his text to tell me the fate of my schedule, I felt an incredible sense of peace.
I still feel peaceful.
I feel like if I can just manage to get through this afternoon with my lips tightly zipped and a smile on my face while I do my job well, this whole thing could prove to be a blessing in disguise.
I love my work. I love what I do. I love being a waitress and making great money doing mindless side work, cleaning and restocking and cleaning, in between waiting tables and getting to interact with different people every day. I love going to work knowing that everything’s going to be exactly the same with different faces and stories and reasons to laugh.
However, the things that I don’t love about my job have lately been bringing me down.
I’ve come a long way, and I’ve learned enough to know that when you start dreading going to work, it’s time for a change.
Life’s too short to not enjoy it, and all the money in the world isn’t worth it if you’re miserable in how you go about making it.
A wise man (Elise’s uncle) once told me:
Cheney, if you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life.
Well, now’s as good a time as any to figure out how to make that work.