I had an arch, witty little post percolating in my head regarding the horror that was my work day on Friday that coincided with my PMS (you're welcome), but I just can't go through with it. It was along the lines of how-to-maximize-your-PMS (open company in Mexico [DON'T YOU DARE; I will hunt you down]; hire well-meaning but incompetent vendor to handle payroll; make sure you're 2 days away from your monthly; on payroll day, shake violently and stand back) and it would have been wry and cute and self-deprecating. You'd have enjoyed it. But I'm not going to write it.
Instead I'm sitting at my desk on this gorgeous Monday morning with an aching back (too much gardening therapy on Sunday) and a pit in my stomach. I need to clear the wreckage strewn on my desk -- detritus of the multiple payroll f*ck-ups and vendor screw-ups and near-disasters that have resulted in staffing mutinies in Mexico over the weekend and may well result in mass firings -- but I find that I'm fighting myself. I can't dig in and get it done.
No matter how old I am (shut it), how successful I am in my career, how accomplished I am in real-life terms, all it takes is one major blow-up and I am instantly thrown back into that horrible place of self-doubt and second-guessing. What could I have done differently? Did I do everything I could to correct the situation? Is my production head angry at me for the screw-up that resulted in her losing a whole shift over the weekend? Does my boss blame me for hiring these frocking incompetent payroll chowder heads in the first place? And, how do I solve it, long term?
My brain knows the answer to some of these questions; it's going to take my heart a little longer to learn them.
At least I got some gardening done.