Last time, we left me crying at my desk after an epic fail of a meeting presentation my then-boss had me put on the agenda.
After crying at my desk (partly from anger that the boss bailed on me and partly from the sheer embarrassment of looking like a rookie without a clue), I got my stuff and went home about 30 minutes early.
I walked through the door and took one look at my husband and burst into a fresh round of tears that wouldn’t stop. I tried to explain to him what had gone down at the meeting and convey that my boss was a no show.
I had an appointment the following morning with my therapist (J and I have been seeing her regularly since the reality of his disability really hit home) and J suggested that I not go to the office prior to the appointment. I emailed all concerned parties to let them know I had something to take care of prior to my appointment (me) and that I would be in afterward.
The next morning I was still in tears. I guess that all of those months of working a ridiculous number of hours each week and having virtually no downtime (my tan was pitiful last summer) really took a toll on my emotional well being. J came with me to my appointment and as soon as I tried to tell her what was going on, I started bawling again! I have never really cared for the term, “nervous breakdown,” but that is probably the most accurate term for what was happening to me. Between J and I, we were able to tell her what happened.
Apparently, this was the real deal, as she put me out of work for two weeks on a medical leave of absence. Thank goodness my workaholic tendencies had my paid time off amount to more than enough to cover me! She also recommended that I schedule a meeting with the VP of Human Resources prior to my returning.
We drove to the office, handed over my note and left for home.
The second week of my two weeks was my scheduled vacation, so that was good. They were already prepared for one of those two weeks.
I cried off and on pretty much the first couple of days out. I might have had it under control by day two, had my then-boss not texted me for the first time in weeks. It was a snarky little bit about how my pet project was going live without me, and that he hoped I’d get better soon. Are. You. Freaking. Kidding. Me???
J snatched my phone and shot off an admirably hateful reply along the lines of, “This is her husband. Do you not understand what medical leave is? She is on it because of you! Leave her the hell alone!” O.o
J then called the HR department at work and scheduled an appointment with the VP, whereupon he unloaded everything that had happened between January and late August and asked him to please keep my then-boss from contacting me further on my personal cell. BOO-YAH! The downside was that the VP heard about my fiasco at that nurses’ meeting, which further made me feel inadequate.
Really long story shorter, my leave was extended a week, during which time, I was able to meet with the HRVP, and I was able to relate my side from my point of view, which further solidified what J had told him.
Upon my return to work, my then-boss was out for whatever reason and I didn’t cross paths with him for a week or more. When he did come back to work, he made a huge deal of speaking to and making over every person in our office that day. Except, of course, for yours truly. Petty much?
I can count on one hand with a missing thumb and ring finger the number of actual conversations I had with him between his return and when he was finally run out of there some time in November. I am not able to share that bit with you at this time, but I can say that by the time I am? It won’t be relevant. Let’s just say, for the record, that Karma’s a bitch, yo!
Next time? The changing of the guard (aka new leadership), a good scare, and, finally all’s well that ends well.
Until next time…