Dennis R. Berry

My World, Reimagined

Oh Monday, How I Hate Thee

Today started off as most other good days do, with me being woken up by my phone ringing and a friendly voice on the other end saying “Good Morning.” That, though, was when it all started. See, the next words I heard were “What are you still doing sleeping? It’s 1:30!” Oh geez. I’d overslept. Stupid Daylight Savings Time. Stupid backache that kept me up all night. Stupid insomnia. Yeah, stupid stupid stupid this and that. It was my own fault. I didn’t set an alarm. I NEVER set an alarm, because I always wake up in time. Oops. Not today, I guess. I rushed around, trying to make and drink coffee, all while trying to throw clothes on and get ready to leave for work. I hate rushing. I mean, I really, really, REALLY hate rushing. It stresses me out like you wouldn’t believe.

Finally, I’m ready to leave. Finally, I’m on my way to work. The day will get better. It will all be okay. I’m stressed, I’m rushed, but I was out the door in time. Right? Well, wrong! I still had to stop and put the last few bucks I had in my pocket into the gas tank so that I could make it to work. Ugh, that’ll teach me. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, I had to swing by the bank and deposit a check so that I would actually be able to feed the “little red beast” (my truck) it’s midnight snack (aka fuel for the return trip). A few minutes here, a few minutes there..all this time was starting to add up. All that stressing and rushing, and I’m still running late.

I’m barreling down the highway, plugging my headset into my phone, frantically dialing my supervisor’s desk phone (no answer) and leaving a voicemail for her that I was running late. I dialed her cell and told her that I was on my way, was running a bit behind (I tried to blame it on the aliens but was met with skepticism.. go figure), and would be there as soon as I could get there. She laughed, told me she was running late, too, and thanked me for letting her know.

By this point, I’m ready to just blow a gasket. I’m tired, I’m cranky, and I’m stressed. For me, that’s a BAD combination. Watch out, world. By the time I walked into the facility (or “Hotel California” as I like to call it.. because, you know, you can’t ever really get away from that place) I was already done. I’d reached the point in my day already that I had no will to face anymore. Ohhhhh, but face it I would.

Sitting down at my desk, I slid my DumbCard into the reader (Yeah, so it’s supposed to be a SmartCard, but honestly, the thing isn’t all that brilliant since it seems to only want to work half the time) and logged onto my email.. to find… wait for it…

“Thank you for applying for <awesome paying promotion that I would have been perfect for>. While you weren’t selected, feel free to apply for other opportunities.”

<Insert random string of sailor-speak here>

That was it. I was done. I grabbed my DumbCard out of the reader, slapped my headphones in my ears, and went for one of my many walkabouts of the night. I’m pretty well-known for my walkabouts amongst my team. When they see me walking in circles around the facility, they leave me alone. They know that I’m either bothered about something, deep in thought about something, or extremely mad about something. Sometimes it’s all three. For the first half of the night it was all I could do to to not just throw up my hands and give up. I WANTED that position. I have the experience. I have the qualifications. But apparently I don’t have the “I know the right person wink-wink-nod-nod” card. Go figure.

Alas, I have one last hope (Help me, Obi Wan!) My application for supervisor hasn’t been rejected. I haven’t received a call, but I haven’t received a rejection email either. I’m crossing my fingers (and my eyes, toes and whatever else I can possibly cross) for this one. I did manage to get productive and get some work done, at least. I’m not a total slacker. It’s amazing what one can accomplish when you stick the earbuds in your ear and crank up the Disturbed and Drowning Pool. But whew, what a day!

And that, boys and girls, is why Mondays should be taken behind the woodshed and tasered. I’m over it. I’m still disappointed, sure. But, what can you do. Tomorrow is a new day, and I’m going to make the most of it. But for now, I’ll go collapse into bed, and set an alarm, because holy crap! Let’s not have a repeat, shall we?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *