Well, I got kicked in the butt at work. I screwed something up, nothing major, but some damage control was needed. If boss-lady was mad, she didn't show it. She was mellow about it, but it was a screw up and it was mine. 

I don't like screwing up, even if it's something I really don't give a rats ass about. I don't like that feeling that I've let go so far that a screw up can occur. It makes me feel slovenly and dull. My response was to sharpen up and I got my shit together and banged out more work than I have in a long, long time. It's a personal responsibility thing. I can't explain it. 

I still go through a daily ritual of asking why I don't give notice, what's paralyzing me? My diagnosed adjustment disorder? Reason and logic itself should overcome that. But I guess that's why it's called a disorder. 

If boss-lady came down on me for screwing up, I would definitely have given notice on Nov. 1. It's too undignified for me to stay where I'm not wanted. What she probably doesn't know is that if the screw up was bad enough, I would have given notice regardless.

   

Lay me place and bake me pie 

I'm starving for me gravy 

Leave my shoes and door unlocked 

I might just slip away 

Just for the day 

- David Bowie "The Bewlay Brothers"