Screwing Up.

I screwed up today. I work Saturday through Wednesday, and on Saturdays and Sundays I'm the one who opens up. I need to be awake at 7:00am in order to catch the bus at 8:00am in order to be there by 8:30am. Last night I couldn't get to sleep, so finally at about 2:00am I took about a quarter dose of nyquil, and then proceeded to sleep, like a log, through three (very quiet) alarms and four phone calls, until 10:00am. (Helpful hint: that is three hours after I should have been up. POOP.)

My main consolation is that I've never done this before and likely never will again, and that, in many ways, the situation was out of my control. I set my alarms last night and turned the ringer on "Normal," which normally means "LOUD AS HELL" but had been accidentally bumped to "gentle croon" at some point. I tried valiantly to sleep without the aid of drugs but found it a futile struggle and so took less than a teaspoon of nyquil, which wouldn't be enough to even phase a normal person but apparently for me it's like being hit in the head by a particularly large brick. All of my actual actions, had they panned out as planned, would have had me up and about on time. But they didn't, and I wasn't, and now I will be getting chewed out on Monday for screwing up today.

Fuck-ups like this are maddening. You can't fix them. There's no one person to apologize to. You can't even rightly say it wasn't your fault, even though you did all of the right things and had all of the right intentions. I keep forgetting to dread being chewed out because I'm not panicking to fix anything, and then I remember and it's like waking up to 10:00am and the sudden, firm knowledge that You Have Fucked It Up Big Time all over again.