November 14th – Day 1 after the funeral of my friend Amanda.
Into the late hours of the 13th-14th, I was up all night crying, shaking, in denial, confused. When I awoke at 5am (after 3 hours of sleep) on the 14th, I couldn’t imagine how ANYONE would go to work.
I texted my boss and informed him that I wouldn’t be in today.
His response was formal and to the point – “…given the accounts of this year and the grace you’ve been given, I think you should resign.”
GULP. GUT SINKS.
How did I go from a high performer with high-functioning anxiety in a very good career… to this?
I never learned that you don’t call into work. And yes, it sounds like an excuse. I grew up watching my mother call in to one job after the next and she still provided a roof and food, so I figured it was okay.
During the ages of 18-20, I bounced from one job to the next because of calling in. I just didn’t know it was frowned upon.
Weeks later, I am still waiting for the “formal” conversation and signing of a document warning me about the extent of my absences. I have learned a very valuable lesson through this (however frightening it is).
Unless my limbs are torn off I will not be calling in again. It doesn’t matter if I have debilitating depression; crying until my eyes are swollen; my cat dies; flat tire or house broken into… none of it matters. Because in corporate America, the job still isn’t be performed. And it doesn’t make a difference why you call in…. because when it comes down to it – you still aren’t there regardless.