The last few weeks have been pretty tough for me, personally. My family has decided to turn my life into a sick Edward Albee play, and, needless to say, it’s put me under a considerable amount of unneeded stress.
It came out in my work last week. I made dumb mistakes. Rookie mistakes. In one instance, I drove all the way to the studio to drop off a package. Pulled into the studio parking lot and then realized that I had forgotten the package on my desk.
I debated telling the APOC what was going on in my personal life. He and I have worked together before, so we’re sort of close. In the end, I decided to keep it to myself. I didn’t want to draw undue attention to myself. I didn’t want to get a lighter workload out of sympathy, which would have undoubtedly drawn the ire of the Other PAs.
Not sure if I made the right decision or not. But at least I know that I can come to work and not have to answer the inane question, “How are things?,” coupled with that sad, puppy-dog face and a slight head tilt. I can leave my home life at home the same way that I leave my work at work.
