Once Again.. Part Two

It was bad enough that my work performance was pretty close to dogshit during this debacle. In February, I had graduated Hamburger University in Chicago, IL. When I left Chicago, my wallet was the one that said "BAD MOTHERFUCKER" on it. I was on the fast track. As far as I was concerned, I was at the top of my game, professionally. Personal problems? Fuck that. Leave it at the door.

When the Domestic Violence shit hit the fan.. The wheels came off. Everything just fell apart. There was no more "leaving it at the door". I missed my kids sooo fucking much, I was sleeping in the woods. I couldn't focus. At one point I burst into tears trying to make a McFlurry. I dropped the dessert on the floor and scrambled to the office... I remember breaking down to Bilo, sobbing in the parking lot about how "Two months ago, nobody could touch me.. Now I can't even make an ice cream" It was sooo true. I was useless. That was the worst part. Up until that point, when everything else was falling apart, I could always count on excelling at work. That shit comes easy to me. Always has. When suddenly, that shit wasn't happening either... My confidence was completely destroyed.

On top of that... instead of trying to doing my job, I'm outside for six hours a day on the phone. Cops, Lawyers, my mother.. It was never ending. I justified it in my head...

Looking back on it now, I see it from both sides. First, I was fiercely loyal to that company for many years. I went the extra mile for them on countless occasions. I lived and breathed that restaurant. When they wanted something, they got it. When they needed something, there was no question. When I was transferred to a store 45 more minutes away from my house, I didn't squawk. "No problem." "Whatever you guys need." I did the work of a First Assistant for a year before they promoted me. I'd proven my loyalty, and it seemed like maybe.. just maybe... someone in that organization other than Ty would have some compassion for my situation... Maybe even some fucking patience during this excruciating ordeal. Hell.. Maybe they had some. But it only took a couple of months before I was demoted and shipped off to Epsom.. The beginning of the end. I never recovered.

But, honestly...?

I was horrible.

I should have taken a leave of absence or something. Those guys paid me decent money every week to chain smoke, give statements to the police, seek advice from my friends and family and strategize with The Bulldog. Ty could only make excuses for me for so long... She warned me, but my head was crammed too far up my own ass to hear her cries... My biggest regret last summer was putting one of my best friends in such an unfair, awkward position. She knew I was a mess... And I knew she knew that I was a mess, and why. So, rather than sucking it the fuck up and pulling myself outta the shit, I looked to her (and her alone) to swat away the vultures circling around my soon-to-be McCorpse, and continued my downward spiral...

Then, as if only to add insult to injury... This fucking guy crosses the line.

Part 3 tomorrow...