burun wrote:I have a spare key to the office, but it was on my house keychain, which was in my coat pocket. The coat was on the back of my chair. In my office.
I am home now, finally, and I still feel like crying.
This is a special kind of sad. This is the "I have done something for which I will soon be yelled at" sad.
Even if there isn't a chance in hell that I will be yelled at, sometimes I get this anyway, because of some atavistic memory of a behavior pattern from when I was just a wee sprat.
Speeding tickets, breaking something expensive, fender benders- all of these things makes me feel like "I AM SUCH AN IDIOT" and I walk around with this big, blue ball of rainwater and stones in my chest for hours.
Hey, Jodi- no big deal. You made a perfectly human and completely normal mistake. I'd drive three hours to let you into your office if I was your coworker. Seriously. You're not an idiot and you don't make a habit of this sort of thing, so I am sure it's fine with everyone. eventually, you'll find an opportunity to pay it forward.
And now, a joke:
A guy comes home from the bar one night, thoroughly drunk. He walks into his house, and under his arm he's carrying a duck. He stands there in the doorway, gently swaying and says "Well.... this here's the pig I've been fucking."
His wife looks up from the couch and says "That's not a pig, it's a duck."
And the guys says... "I wasn't talking to you."