FFS in Each Day
- Dec. 16, 2023, 1:37 p.m.
- |
- Public
I failed my fitness test on Thursday.
I fucked up the process on the first activity, twice, and was 0.6 seconds over the allotted time. The invigilator told me to “not worry about the process”, and gave me the opportunity to do it again. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. You saw me correct TWO mistakes that apparently you don’t care about, but you won’t give me .6 seconds off the time?
Even my boss, who did show up to cheer me on, and also do his own very overdue test, was pissed on my behalf.
I did the test again, but I was so gassed from the first round that I was SO much slower the second time.
They filled out the paperwork and told me to come back next week, that it was “probably just nerves”. Yeah, no shit. You know what’s cool about test anxiety? It doesn’t only apply to intellectual shit.
Anyway, I’m back in the mindset of I know I can do this, so I’m not as stressed about doing it again. I’m more pissed that I have to.
I did cry the entire drive home. In heartbreak and rage and disappointment and grief. Like, bawling, contorted face ugly cry. And when I got home I cried some more while M plied me with weed and hugs.
When I saw my boss yesterday he sidled up to me and asked how I was, to which I said, “Meh”. Then he said, “well, we really only have one thing to talk about…” to which I said, “which one thing? haha”, since over the years he has been my advocate on a vast number of subjects and also my cat had just died, so he asked me if I was going to have the opportunity to do the test again next week. I confirmed this fact, and he said, “good”.
There’s still a sliver of hope that I’ll ring in the New Year as a Captain.
You know, when I said “No amount of pain or headache is going to stop me from this shit now. I hope I don’t eat my words.” I really didn’t expect I’d be eating my words, repeatedly, in large quantities.
Last updated December 16, 2023
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