I had one of those days again—the kind where nothing seems to go right. Woke up late. Fantastic. Still managed to fall in a rabbit hole for half an hour. I accept responsibility, because I am a mature adult. Got to work late, and I didn’t use traffic as an excuse, though it was a bitch this morning. (I sat at the intersection by my apartment for five minutes without moving.) Saw a line of students waiting to be served. Jumped right in, head first. Of course Dave wasn’t in today. It’s Tuesday after a three-day weekend, the first work day after a move-in and his big night out for the concert, a day before his performance review, and just a few short weeks before he’s leaving to be with his wife after the birth of their baby. I don’t begrudge him his sick time, I’ve said it before, but what I have a problem with is he consistently takes time off when the office is busiest. I’m expected to cover for him when he’s out, and consequently my whole week gets messed up.
I have responsibilities that I can’t pass on to others. I have responsibilities that are time sensitive. I have responsibilities that affect each and every employee in my department. I don’t call in sick, go on vacation, or have a baby (yeah, I know it’s irrational) when my absence is going to affect everyone in a huge way. I honestly don’t mind stepping up to help out, but what about my work? I live in a sea of paper. I can’t find things because I’ve had no time to file. I’ve lost things because I’m being pulled in a thousand different directions. My own quality of work is suffering because I am over-extended.
What do I do? Do I say, “I’m sorry I’m such a twit and I’ve forgotten to do X, Y, and Z”? Do I bury my head in the sand and hope no one notices? I loved being the Superheroine of Small Offices Everywhere because when things got this bad I could walk away. Now I have no choice but to suck it up and power through. At least I’m through my probationary period. Bitches can’t fire me now.
It’s Dave’s review tomorrow. What do I say? Do I tell him I feel disrespected? Do I tell him I’m on to his game? Or do I say none of the above, and give him a pat on the back in the hopes he won’t pull a vindictive stunt during my review? I guess I have to wonder how important self-preservation is to me.
Thanks for listening, dear diary.