Some days you just want to delete right off the ol' DVR of life.
Today would be one of those days. It was a icky wet nasty grey sky'ed chilly mess. There were three wrecks within a mile of one another on the interstate. I had an "assessment" at work today (PC name for a freakin' test). They "discretely" pulled people out of the room to give them their results. People came skipping back in the room proudly telling of their 99 out of 100, 95 out of 100 and similar scores.
I became more and more worried when everyone in the room had been called except for me. Then they call me back into another room which coincidentally had another employee in it. The one trainer stood behind me towering over my chair like a scolding parent. The other one sat next to me with the look of confusion and pity. I opened up the test booklet to reveal a failing grade. It looked like someone bled all over my paper. The first question from the pity face trainer was "What happened?" At that point I think all of the blood I had in my body was pooled in my stomach. My eyes resembled that of a puppy that has been told all the dog cookies were gone and I was a bad bad puppy.
They then proceeded to ask me to go through and demonstrate the sucktittude with which I spectacularly failed. I had to go through question by agonizing question and show my complete ineptness and failure to grasp the material. Oh yes, they did. By the way I did ask Igor behind me to sit down. Due to the fact I was a little freaked to have someone towering over me while I was horribly embarrassed. In a nutshell, it sucked..really freakin' sucked.
The blood began to rush back to my face as I went through the question gauntlet. I could feel the blush beginning and the tears brimming. I managed to suck it up until I was done with the questioning. After I left the room of doom I was trying to dart to the rooms where you can make private phone calls so I could bawl my eyes out alone. OF COURSE someone has to see me and wants to ask me what was wrong. I couldn't talk the tears started streaming and I basically bolted from the area. That person got one of our peer coaches (aka not really a supervisor manager thingy) and sent her to save me from the depths of despair. All I really wanted to do was lose my sh*t, pull it back together and move on with the day. Was that going to happen? Holy poop piles NOOOOOO!
I had to explain that I was feeling all hormonal, and I was over-reacting and I was fine. All the while I am thinking "Leave me alone to have a good sob fest!!!" I finally appeased her and she let me go .
After wiping the mascara from under my eyes and making sure there were no boogies around my nose I made my way back into the class. I was hoping to become one with my chair and remain invisible for the remainder of the afternoon. It was only an hour left in the day, I was almost free. I could find the nearest purveyor of hamburgers and carb load myself into a coma. Then I could go to bed and cry into my sweet little dogs' fur. Well that crap wasn't happening. Yet ANOTHER trainer shows up and calls me out of the room. Out into the hallway where MY MANAGER was waiting for me.
At this point I am ready to pass out from sadness, aggravation and anger. I follow my manager into another chamber of shame. I then begin to regurgitate everything I could think of to get her to believe that I was going to: "soldier forward", "pull up my bootstraps", "go bravely where no pregnant girl has gone before"..blah de blah bull crap blah.
After a HALF HOUR of searching my poor scrambled brain for any semblance of a reason why I failed the first "easy" test we were finally done. I was watching the clock behind her (hopefully not obviously) and it was only five minutes til' complete breakdown time! Hooray! Then a knock at the door and MY MANAGER's Manager pops in. HOOFREAKIN' RAY is the CEO of the company available? I am sure that he would like to put his two cents in about my atrocity of a test. The Manager's manager wanted to make sure everything was OK. No it is not OK, everything is wrong and awful! I need a hug, and a blanket, and my Mommy, and a sticker, and maybe a lolly pop.
So where is that erase button again?
Two Days, By The Numbers - Hours spent in Philadelphia, total: 27, ish Hours spent on trains: Three Hours spent waiting for trains that were late: One Hours spent in meetings: 12 Hou...