What's the point??

I'm about to give a recount of the horrible week I had.


But first, what is the point of work, really? Is it:
  a) Sitting in rush hour traffic for 2 hours a day
  b) Squinting at a computer screen for 9-10 hours a day
  c) Having no time for breakfast
  d) Having no time for lunch
  e) Eating dinner alone at 9pm in front of your laptop
  f) All of the above


It's 7:30pm. Time to go home for the day. I grab my car keys and pack up the company laptop. I'm about to leave when I remember something. I quickly scribble a note onto a yellow Post-It, and I'm off. Even though the sun has set, it's still warm out. When I reach my [parent's] car, I realize I had left my keys on my desk. No worries; I'll just go back in to get it. Maybe one of the cleaning staff will have the keys. I step into the elevators and press the floor number of the office. Hmmm, it won't light up. Press again. And again. And again. A guy with a briefcase steps out of the elevator next to mine. Ugh, the elevators must be on lock-down and won't take people up. A janitor nearby explains that they don't have the office keys. I think about calling my parents to pick me up, except I had left my cell phone at home. I wander around for a bit outside before going into a hotel and asking to borrow their phone. I call home. My mom picks up. I explain that she needs bring my car keys, and preferably leave as soon as possible (it's an hour-long drive). She mutters something about being tired from working all day but agrees: we will meet in front of a restaurant in one hour.


I order dinner at a fast-food place and eat it slowly. I figure the hour must be up (I don't have a watch either). I wait outside. Maybe my mom took the wrong exit on the highway? An entire hour passes. The restaurant-goers stare at me as they walk by. Finally, I borrow someone's phone and call home, and both parents' cell phones; no one picks up. It's completely dark out and I'm starting to panic. About 20 minutes later, my mom shows randomly in the middle of the parking lot nearby. Apparently, she had stopped to ask for directions, and then had locked her keys in the car. Someone had finally given her a ride to the restaurant. I laugh hysterically.


We walk back to the hotel, and then to a gas station nearby. My mom finally manages to convince someone to take us home to get the spare keys. He was reluctant at first, but generously let us drive his car and even refused the money we tried to give him. 2 hours later, my mom and I can finally get into our cars and get home. I finally drift off to sleep after 3am.


My mom is yelling at me from downstairs to wake up. It's 8:30am and I've overslept. She slams the front door shut and leaves for work. Why didn't she wake me up earlier? Oh well, no time to think about that. I'm super late. I finally walk into work about an hour late. I mumble the usual greetings and an apology about being so late. I reach to turn on my laptop when I realize with horror that my work laptop was left at home. I run outside to clear my head. Maybe I could go back to get it and no one would notice? There's no chance of that happening, since my desk is only a few feet away from most of my superiors. I go back in and confess that I had forgotten my laptop at home. Can I borrow another laptop? Apparently not; each laptop computer can only be accessed by the employee it was formatted for. Frantic calls to the international headquarters ensue. I imagine myself being fired for this. Eventually, another laptop is set up. Overwhelming relief.


Over the weekend, one of our cars needs to get fixed. The family cars are shuffled around and I'm stuck with the family clunker for the rest of the week. The clunker does not go above 60 miles per hour without trembling furiously, which is a pretty scary experience when you're driving on the interstate. (By the way, I work out-of-state.) The driver's side window is broken, and I will have to open the whole door when I pull up to the toll booths (I need to go through 4 toll booths a day). The clunker is so low to the ground that I always feel like I'm sitting directly on the pavement when I'm doing shoulder-checks. Monday morning rolls around and I'm off to work driving the clunker. I'm running a bit late and the traffic is absolutely horrible--several miles of snail-paced driving. The cars in my lane are at a complete standstill, when the lane next to mine starts moving. I wait patiently for a large gap and try to merge into it. A sudden, loud crashing sound makes me nearly jump out of my skin. My car had hit the car in front of me. I duck my head in shame and spend a brief moment utterly hating life. Then I pull to the side and pray for little damage. There's little damage (yay!). I feel horrible, but the other driver, a stay-at-home-mom, is very nice about the whole situation. I apologize and she takes down my information. I'm anxious to get to work on time. I take the sheet with her phone number on it and we both leave.


An hour and a half later, my dad calls. Multiple times in a row. It's the insurance company calling to say I had hit someone, and she had reported suffering neck pain. WHAT, neck pain!??? A few more moments of hating my fortune/fate. The insurance company calls me. I can't answer it in front of the bosses. I call back, but the agent is out to lunch. The agent eventually gets impatient and files the claim without my input. I figure it's the end of things.


Today, my dad calls again at work. I check my phone and see 4 missed calls. He's calling about the insurance company again. They need to send someone to come take pictures of the damage on my car/clunker. I groan. My dad suggests it's because the woman is trying to get a claim for injuries as the result of our fender bender. I hang up before my dad's done talking because I don't want to seem like I'm wasting time making personal calls in front of the superiors. My dad leaves an angry voicemail about how I'm disrespectful and ungrateful, and that he's never helping me with anything again for the rest of my life.


And now here we are. I got to leave early today, meaning before 7pm. Things were starting to look up in life before this awful week and insurance nightmare. I wish school could have prepared me for how much the real world is going to suck.


I want to retire now. Work would be bearable if everything else in life was perfect. Ugh, I just can't deal with this.