Worst Week Ever
Although Monday was pretty nice. Guess that makes it the exception.
Tuesday was when things started going downhill. I got a call while I was reading meters from one of the groups I had written an article for. They said that they appreciated it, but it wasn't quite what they had in mind. Thanks anyway. Okay, my first rejection. No biggie. Then, I got a call from my boss at the Ports Authority about the same article. You see, I hadn't cleared it with PR, and that was a big problem with them. She made sure I was coming in that day so she could talk about it, as she was already catching hell.
When you're out reading meters, most people's minds wander quite a bit. Mine tends to fixate. I found myself detached, going through the motions of reading on a warm, sunny day while my heart darkened with self-loathing and my thoughts turned to the attraction of suicide. You know, standard fare for me when things go bad.
Things were straightened out when I came in to the Ports Authority, but I was given a choice: remain an intern or pursue freelancing. Not both. I was told to call in the next day with an answer, which I did. I knew my future lay in writing, and the internship had been of little profit lately. So I chose freelancing, and my boss told me to enjoy the rest of the day and bring back my badge and things at my leisure. We parted on good terms, and I thought things were well.
Still, there was a cloud over me. Now that the internship was over, what was I to do? Continue searching for work, obviously, but I couldn't continue to leave half of my days empty. The simplest solution would be to begin reading meters full-time, but even writing that here makes me cringe. This dilemma put me in a foul mood for the rest of the day, and my friends caught on. I went out to dinner with Hope, and she helped to calm my emotions a bit, assuring me that doing things we don't like can be a good thing sometimes.
But there was that damn cloud. It hung over me today, as well. Tuesday was filled with self-hatred, Wednesday with an annoyance with the world, but today, I found myself consumed by a quiet fury. I wanted to break things. Even at small group tonight, which was filled with lots of sage advice and touching stories, I felt dull inside and restless. My left hand even began to shake towards the end. Then, another call.
It was my boss, and she was calling about yet another article I had sent to a development group about Foreign-Trade Zones without, you guessed it, clearing it with anyone. She was livid, though she did an admirable job hiding it. I left messages with the necessary people to try and clear her of any responsibility and to retract the article, and tomorrow will show if I succeeded.
Now, I lay in bed writing this on my laptop while marveling at the magnitude of my incompetence. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Its not like I have any real business experience, and certainly not with the red tape of a large bureaucracy. I was given warning about clearing things, though, even if it wasn't remembered. I'm either too free-spirited or too dumb. I'm leaning towards the latter. I don't know how this is going to affect me in the long run, but I damaged my rapport with my boss, and that's the worse part.
It eluded me for a while, actually. I thought what bugged me most was the thought of reading meters full-time. I don't like the idea, sure, but what turns my soul inside-out is the knowledge that I screwed up. I made a mistake that a simple "sorry" and an innocent smile couldn't fix. And someone got hurt. Professionally. She put faith in me, and I betrayed it. Its a good thing I don't habitually carry sharp things with me.
Hopefully things can be mended. I think I can catch the article before it actually goes anywhere, and groveling enough might help people forget whose intern I was. After that, I can't say. I'll do what I have to, I guess.
Such is life, in all its shambling, evanescent glory.
Twilight down.
Tuesday was when things started going downhill. I got a call while I was reading meters from one of the groups I had written an article for. They said that they appreciated it, but it wasn't quite what they had in mind. Thanks anyway. Okay, my first rejection. No biggie. Then, I got a call from my boss at the Ports Authority about the same article. You see, I hadn't cleared it with PR, and that was a big problem with them. She made sure I was coming in that day so she could talk about it, as she was already catching hell.
When you're out reading meters, most people's minds wander quite a bit. Mine tends to fixate. I found myself detached, going through the motions of reading on a warm, sunny day while my heart darkened with self-loathing and my thoughts turned to the attraction of suicide. You know, standard fare for me when things go bad.
Things were straightened out when I came in to the Ports Authority, but I was given a choice: remain an intern or pursue freelancing. Not both. I was told to call in the next day with an answer, which I did. I knew my future lay in writing, and the internship had been of little profit lately. So I chose freelancing, and my boss told me to enjoy the rest of the day and bring back my badge and things at my leisure. We parted on good terms, and I thought things were well.
Still, there was a cloud over me. Now that the internship was over, what was I to do? Continue searching for work, obviously, but I couldn't continue to leave half of my days empty. The simplest solution would be to begin reading meters full-time, but even writing that here makes me cringe. This dilemma put me in a foul mood for the rest of the day, and my friends caught on. I went out to dinner with Hope, and she helped to calm my emotions a bit, assuring me that doing things we don't like can be a good thing sometimes.
But there was that damn cloud. It hung over me today, as well. Tuesday was filled with self-hatred, Wednesday with an annoyance with the world, but today, I found myself consumed by a quiet fury. I wanted to break things. Even at small group tonight, which was filled with lots of sage advice and touching stories, I felt dull inside and restless. My left hand even began to shake towards the end. Then, another call.
It was my boss, and she was calling about yet another article I had sent to a development group about Foreign-Trade Zones without, you guessed it, clearing it with anyone. She was livid, though she did an admirable job hiding it. I left messages with the necessary people to try and clear her of any responsibility and to retract the article, and tomorrow will show if I succeeded.
Now, I lay in bed writing this on my laptop while marveling at the magnitude of my incompetence. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Its not like I have any real business experience, and certainly not with the red tape of a large bureaucracy. I was given warning about clearing things, though, even if it wasn't remembered. I'm either too free-spirited or too dumb. I'm leaning towards the latter. I don't know how this is going to affect me in the long run, but I damaged my rapport with my boss, and that's the worse part.
It eluded me for a while, actually. I thought what bugged me most was the thought of reading meters full-time. I don't like the idea, sure, but what turns my soul inside-out is the knowledge that I screwed up. I made a mistake that a simple "sorry" and an innocent smile couldn't fix. And someone got hurt. Professionally. She put faith in me, and I betrayed it. Its a good thing I don't habitually carry sharp things with me.
Hopefully things can be mended. I think I can catch the article before it actually goes anywhere, and groveling enough might help people forget whose intern I was. After that, I can't say. I'll do what I have to, I guess.
Such is life, in all its shambling, evanescent glory.
Twilight down.
posted by Aisyrn | 10:52 PM
3 Comments:
You realise you are seriously overreacting.
This "boss" of yours never paid you a cent, and only filled your head with empty promises of finding you other jobs.
Did you have a security clearance? Did you sign a non-disclosure agreement? No. Then guess what, it's not your fault and no action can be taken against you.
Writers don't worry about what they "should" and "should not" write. Not unless you want to go live in Russia. I hear they tell you what to write over there.
You should be angry, but not at yourself.
That's... actually a really good point. Thanks.
(And, yes, I know I'm overreacting. I let my emotions run wild more times than not. Its a bad habit of mine.)
Arnold is quite right, and I hope that eases the dark feelings you've been having. Seriously, I deeply empathize with the horrible gnawing feeling of screwing up, but it passes and you learn. I hope things look up soon.
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