No sense of guilt at all
Returning to my main job after the week off for Easter was harder than I would have expected. Which is strange, because I returned to the same tasks in the same work cycle, but everything seemed that much more difficult. Why, I can’t say. It’s not like my memory is so bad that in a week I had forgotten how to perform the tasks, and …. now what was I saying?
Whatever the reason, Monday was the easiest day of the four. I took a normal lunch hour but was able to leave on time. Tuesday, however, was notably worse. Despite skipping all but five minutes of my lunch break I ended up staying 45 minutes late. What’s more, I had a 7 to 11 shift that evening at the Major Home Improvement Retailer, and was busy to the point of being hectic with a mountain of freight to be packed out.
I was pretty exhausted when I went into work on Wednesday morning, and things only got worse from there. It was as if my tasks had suddenly become animate and were reproducing. Sort of like the broomsticks in the Sorcerer’s Apprentice scene of Disney’s Fantasia. By noon I realized there was no chance in a million that I’d be out on time. Sure enough, 2:30 came around and I was nowhere close to being done. I finally left after four, more than 90 minutes later than usual. Fortunately the company’s overtime procedures have been made easier and I didn’t have to rush around getting approval for the extra time. I was scheduled for another 7 to 11 MHIR shift, but there was no way in creation I was going. So I called in sick, and I’m proud to say I did not have the remotest twinge of guilt for doing so!