On the edge (part 2)

August 26th

And today — it happened to me. Really strange coincidence that yesterday I wrote about being on the edge as seen in my coworkers, and today I experienced the same. And it wasn’t a pleasant sight and feel for me.

Again, I was trying to do several things at the same time, trying to make sure that everything I can do is done to ensure the full production over the weekend. I was extremely busy and tired already, and there were several meetings coming up where I had to be present. So I was boiling inside as it was. And then I received a message from a guy from production saying that he needs 3 tonnes of this material delivered today — otherwise one production line will stop for the weekend. It wasn’t a question — can it happen? can you do it? what are the options? NO. It was a statement that this needs to be done, and done today. And that was the fault of the production side, again they haven’t updated the production reports and used more materials than they were supposed to. I slammed my fist on the table and walked away. I walked in circles around the corridor for a couple of minutes, trying to keep myself together. Then I went back to my desk and started making phone calls and sending emails and trying this or that option. And after a couple of hours, I was able to get the needed material to be delivered this evening. I paid for this with a raging headache and stomachache and disgust for everything and everyone. My boss tried to turn it into a good thing — saying that I am so good at what I do, and saved the asses of production guys so many times before, that they are now expecting the impossible from me — and I delivered again. So I should be happy about all that.

Bullshit.

I felt so exhausted by all this and still had to do other normal work in less time than usual, that by the end of the day I was like automata just going through the motions without actually thinking about what I was doing. And I made mistakes, some that I caught and fixed, and I am sure that they were others that I missed. I don't care.

Something stopped me from saying what I wanted to say to the incompetence of others. Something stopped me from telling them — it cannot be done, go f**k yourselves. Something stopped me from just getting my things and walking away — even though for a while that was exactly what I wanted to do. I bottled it inside me, and about doing the impossible like a good employee, a good peon, a good guy that I am.

I wonder what will happen next time when I will get to the edge of emotional control? I know that it will happen very soon again.