Wake up at 6:35a, go to work and maintain a persistent nagging mindset there there is more to do than you have time for. More important things to do than sit in this chair and be a tech therapist for the next 9 hours. You should be packing, 3 days left and you're no where near through yet. You begin noticing mistakes and oversights you've made. Your co-workers have to clean up one failure after another. They have to come behind you because you can't do it yourself. You're not a good tech, you're a mediocre tech who others have to help. You have to live this for 8 more hours, more Indians, and Romanians and Filipinos. More mistakes, more escalations to other people because you can't do it, and the few you actually get through, who cares? A glimpse of a lucky call before you trip and foul up again.
You have said "I'm sorry for the inconvenience" or "I'm sorry I don't know that" dozens of times and its not even lunch hour yet. You hate telling people that. It is your polite code for I failed you, and there's nothing I can do about it. So many times, so many people you can't help. Why the hell are you still wasting time in this chair? People need you and you fall short over and over again. What is the point?
You sit in traffic for 40 minutes to find your way home and you apologize to your wife, who pulls in just behind you. You should have been home before now, should have been packing already, but all you can say is "sorry I'm late, traffic was bad." You fill another box in the ever growing mountain of cardboard. Your house is a mess, a disgrace, and there is nothing you can do about it. You haven't dusted, vacuumed or swept in over 3 weeks and it's diving you crazy. Way to fail at one of the things that brings you happiness. You keep packing, and put dinner on. There are no plates or silver...of course not, they're PACKED. You were supposed to find the paper plates and plastic forks, but you didn't do that either. You failed again, and this time it breaks you. One job Chase, you had 1 fucking job and you couldn't do it.
There is no tier 2, there is no helpdesk for me to call with my troubles. No one should care about my troubles because they're mine. I made them, and I have to deal with them. I don't get to call an 800 # and have some voice magic my problems away. Why have I chosen to be that guy? Why have I chosen to be that voice? I am tired of people and their problems. I am so extremely tired. I don't want to play this game of repetition anymore, but I have no choice. I have to have money so I work. As I sit here my daughter calls "Da-da?" up the stairs until my wife comes to her and helps. "Your daughter is calling you." she says. I know, as I stare through watery, tear filled eyes at these words I'm typing, I KNOW THAT! I scream inside my head. She doesn't need to see me, or hear me like this. I have lost the fight. Too much stacked against me for one day and I have LOST.
Simple things like finding paper plates and plastic forks loom like towers over me. You can't do it. I know I can't. Comments from my wife and squeaks from my daughter for attention because she just wants a hug are blocked out. I don't want to hear them, why don't they understand I am a failure? Why don't they turn their backs and leave me alone? I don't deserve love, I haven't earned love. What I have done is shown just another thing that I can fall short at, and the 2 people I care most about were front row, center for the show. Despair and self loathing consume me.
Stop...Reboot...
Sorry, command not recognized...
I spend the evening this way. I hurt to my core. My throat and chest feel like a vice is wrapped around them. All I can do is wait for sleep to silence the despair. Tomorrow is a new day, and I can try again. I'll put on a happy face, and I'll sound cheerful. I'll convince people I am a good employee, but what I really am is a better actor. I have 2 options available to me: I can learn to deal with my failures, or I can not. People put far more faith and stock in me than I am worthy of. I am no one special, no one important and I have accomplished nothing worth mentioning in social studies class. If I can come to grips with this, and tailor the next 30 years of my life around it, what is preventing everyone else from doing the same?
Next time with happier tidings
Chase
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