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9:08 p.m. - MON 4/23/01 Sometime after 11 or so this morning, Chris came over; A friend of his who's big into extra work gave him some books he wanted to pass on to me. We were going to go for breakfast, but we didn't really know where to go--I'd eaten already anyway--so then Chris decided to take me to this grocery store he likes because it's cheap ( That was cool with me. I didn't have any food in the house, because I'm trying to eat what I've got before I buy more stuff. Trying to slow down the grocery express ). Anyway, we grocery shopped, then drove back to my place, and right as we pulled up to the apartment, I got a call on my cell phone. It was Robert, from Borders. He wanted to know if I realized I was supposed to work today at Noon. It was somewhere around 12:15 at that point. I threw my stuff in the fridge, moved as quickly as I could the six blocks or so to where my car was parked ( Parking has been the one thing that makes me routinely curse LA ), and drove as quickly as was prudent to the bookstore ( For extra added fun, my turn signal died last night, so each lane change was extra stressful ). I got there around 12:45. I was sick about what happened. I never got over it the whole day. It's after nine now, and I'm STILL really upset. I want to cry, I feel panicky, and I'm angry as hell. I've been trying to build myself up for the past couple of days. Part of that process was telling myself how the bookstore was going to work out--I was telling everyone how they really seemed to be impressed with me, how I felt like all I had to do was keep a good attitude and keep myself doing stuff and things were going to go well--and now THIS. So what happened, you're wondering. How could I DO this, at the beginning of only my second week at a new job? Basically, they have sheets up on the wall, with the schedule assignments in this little grid-configuration ( They go up sometime around mid-week for the following week ). Well, when the time came, I got out my little pen and my little Tasmanian Devil "pocket journal", and very carefully wrote down my schedule...for the week I had just worked! But since I don't have a regular schedule at this point, that didn't work out too well ( They hadn't taken down the old sheet, and I got confused ). I find myself wanting to explain how the schedule sheet is kind of confusing, how there are boxes in front of the wall where the schedule is tacked up, making you look at it from something of a distance. I want to explain how I'm really NOT an almost 40 year old man who can't handle the basics of showing up to his job on time. But I just fucked up. And there is absolutely nothing I can do about it now except to move on, and not fuck up AGAIN. I think the reasons I might be angry and upset about this are probably mostly pretty clear--I wanted to make a good impression, and thought I was doing just that until today--but I'm not sure if the PANICKY feeling is something people would understand. I have a couple friends out here, and I'm very grateful for that, but mostly, it's just ME; I can seek help from those people, but I've got to be my own best friend and biggest supporter out here. Looking at this situation, I can't help but see it as subconscious sabotage. Copying my scheduled hours from one piece of paper to another is just NOT something that should be beyond me, no matter WHAT the circumstances ( I know one big mistake I made; At the time I was writing my hours down, Robert was wanting to take me somewhere to do something, more training I guess it was, and I let myself feel RUSHED ). Since I'm not a big drooling idiot, I have to feel like something else is going on here. And when I think that "something else is going on here", that's where the panic sets in. I just can't be in the business of fucking up out here. I can't. I can't be weak, or stupid, or foolish out here. I can't do things or behave in ways that work against my own best interests. I don't have the luxury. I don't have money, and I've got very limited backup ( And at this point, that "backup" does NOT include the people I work for! That should be a pretty obvious rule for anyone in the working world; you don't get to screw up in front of your bosses until they've gotten a chance to know and like you, and thus have the desire to forgive you ).
But while this was tremendously upsetting to me, it's over now. It was regrettable--and STUPID!--but it's not like I'm going to be fired tomorrow ( There's a process; I think you have to do this sort of thing three times in a ninety day period before you get canned ). And if I have to check the schedule every single day I'm there, to make sure I know the NEXT day I'm supposed to be there, then that's what I'll do. I've been obsessively checking my clock--to make sure the alarm's set--and the schedule I wrote down ( Padric asked me specificaly late last week if I could come in tomorrow from 9:30 to 6, which I of course said was not a problem ). Now I have to figure out the turn signal thing, though "figure out" is a little grand; Basically, I just have to take it in somewhere and get it done. It's money I don't really have, but that's pretty important stuff; Contrary to what people outside of LA might think, people really DO seem to use their turn signals here! I continue to be pretty anxious about money, but as I told Cary last night ( and Chris this morning ) I SPECIFICALLY paid off my credit cards back in Michigan so I'd have that credit when I got out HERE. Now I find myself all nervous over the idea of getting into debt. But again, if that's what I've got to do, that's what I've got to do. I have to keep moving, I have to trust in my ability to work things out, and I have to have faith that good things will happen. That, or start planning my ignominious return to Lansing...
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