Baseball

Today's Cereal: Wheat Chex and Cocoa Puffs
Current Mood: Terrified beyond belief

I got an e-mail yesterday from my boss. She had received a letter of complaint from an adoptive father who was angry because his daughter had requested help from us in reuniting with her birthmother back in February, but nothing had been done about it and they hadn’t heard from us.

I was never good at baseball. I couldn’t catch the ball, and if I did, I always dropped it. It appeared as though life had hit a pop fly in my direction, and what did I do? I dropped the ball.

It was totally my fault. I had put the daughter’s request aside because I needed to clarify something about it, and I just plain forgot about it. I had to get up in the night to pee at least 4 times, and The Boy woke us up 4 additional times (he’s cutting a molar, poor kid—though I don’t feel so sympathetic at 2 in the morning...), and after that any sleep I might have gotten was chased away by this huge mistake I made.

I worried all night. And all morning as I got ready for work, I had visions of being fired. I rehearsed what I would say. I felt angry. I felt scared. I felt sad. I felt sick with worry.

I ran into my boss’s office first thing upon arriving at the office. She held up the letter she got, and before she could say anything I launched into an apology so big I could barely breathe by the time I reached the end of it. I took full responsibility. I had just forgotten about the case. It was unprofessional of me, it was careless of me, and I was willing to do nearly anything to make up for it.

My boss can be a rather harsh woman. Most people in the office are scared to go to her with their problems because she seems to have so little empathy. She’s not afraid to give you what-for, and she does it on a regular basis. And she has this way of looking at you over her glasses... I make fun of that look, but admittedly it scares to poo out of me.

So what did this harsh and intimidating woman say when I was done with my groveling?

“Becky, you have just raised a level or two in my esteem for having the courage to admit to your mistake. My gosh, most people would try to talk their way out of it or find a way to blame it on someone else! That was very good of you. Welcome to human-kind.”

Home run! And the crowd goes wild!

Of course, as part of my penitence I volunteered to call the irate father rather than make the Boss come up with an apology letter. More than just about anything else besides spiders and earwigs, I am afraid of confrontation. I am an honest-to-goodness wuss, even though I try to be tough by doing things like going through natural childbirth. What if he yells at me? What if he threatens to discredit me or the agency? What if he wants me to bow to demands I can’t possibly meet? I’m so scared!

I am up to bat, and all I have is a wiffle bat and no helmet. Holy crap am I scared.