I had this teacher in high school, a one Mr. Black (yes, he was black) who at every opportunity would declare “what can go wrong…. will go wrong”. He used to do this with so much relish it was like he took pride or pleasure (probably both) in expecting fate to take a shit on our poor freshmen souls. Point being, I’ve never been able to forget “Murphey’s Law”
The last few days, lady luck, God, life (call it what you will) seems to have decided to give me a generous serving of ill will.
I’ll try to keep the details short, suffice to say I had a story that was scheduled to print on Monday (today) which meant I had to have the story written and done by Sunday late afternoon. Due to a series of unfortunate events I found myself on 8pm on Saturday night with no story. I called my co-worker (who I report to) and with minimal panic in my voice I pitched an alternative story.
I went home under the impression that I could start a new story that night and meet my deadline. Close to midnight I had to admit that my back-up wasn’t going to work out and will less than 15 hours to go I had nothing. I suppose being generally unemotional and difficult to phase has its perks, I didn’t panic although I did yell at my sister when she asked me “so what are you going to do?”
I did all I could and in the wee hours of the morning I decided there was nothing else to be done, I lay my head to rest hoping that come morrow someone would have responded and I’d be able to write a story. With my computer by my bed, the first thing I did when I woke up was checked my email only to be sorely disappointed. Not a single response (but I got a fb friend request).
Hurriedly I contacted anyone I could think of and the realization that my story was due in under 7 hours was a hard to avoid. Somehow I managed to collect just enough information in the course of an hour and a half to head over to the office knowing that all I had to do was just sit down and write. Considering the feats I had accomplished in college where my fast typing won over time, I wasn’t too worried. Somehow, the story got done. Tired, hungry and with a throbbing head I relaxed knowing that not only was my story done, but I had everything organized for the next day.
Or so I thought. In my haste to get the story done I forgot all other responsibilities and when the shuttle at 8:30 pulled up in front of the office I happily got on and was thrilled about my early night (most nights end up with me leaving the office closer to 9:30 or 10). I got home and within 10 mins of getting online I realized that in my joy over getting my story done, I had forgotten that I had to edit and finalize my page for Monday.
Lucky for me my parents were nice enough to drive me back to the office where my sick co-worker and boss were cleaning up my mess. Apologizing profusely seemed so pathetic and I can’t understand how I forgot something as important as clearing the page. My coworker and boss were really nice (I would have been tempted to fire someone) and I was able to finish my work and head back with my parents. My parents are wonderful, while I was working they went and bought me chocolate. My parents def know how to cheer me up. Chocolate FTW.
Today I started my day nervous that my ill luck would stretch to day three and although I can’t say it was a “bad” day, there were down sides… for instace today was supposed to be my day off which I had to put off for a press conference. I didn’t mind that part, the part I’m a little bummed about is where my coworker is sick (poor him) and as long as he’s sick, guess who doesn’t get any days off?
I still love my job and the more I get to know the people I work with, the more I love them, but once in a while I need to be able to go do mindless things.
Today a coworker said I was turning into a workaholic, given that I have little else going on in my life I guess I don’t mind as long as Murphy doesn’t bite my butt and send me another slew of bad days.