Karma?
More than anything, other than the obvious of wishing this never happened at all, I wish I had seen them. I wish I had a face. A mental picture of the person (people?) I wish death on would make a world of difference in the feeling avenged department. I was always the one who said I would never let this happen. Not to us, not while I was there, nofuckingway. I was so gung-ho about that. And the truth is, I was doing a good job. I was. But show me a manager that exiles their opening associate to the front at 10:30 in the morning and you may as well be showing me a goddamn unicorn. My mind is in constant battle between hating myself/feeling incredibly guilty and wanting to defend myself/remind myself that it's happened to everyone. The best of us. Both Lauren and Mary twice in one month. Jason, twice. Josh. Jen. Everyone. In every store, in every district, in every region. Everyone drones on about how you can't control everything and it happens so fast and I can't beat myself up about it. And the truth is, even if Steph hadn't been taking out trash for me, it still would have happened. I would have had her sizing the swim wall. Who watches the front at 10:30 in the morning? No one. But all of this, all of this that my logic tells me, no matter how many people tell me it's a rite of passage, the guilt is still so hard to shake. Learn from it, move on, yeah yeah yeah. He tells me over and over again. But it's hard to do that when I feel like Kim will now always be speaking to me in an "I'm disappointed in you" tone of voice. It's a hard thing to swallow, especially when I've exhausted myself with all the ridiculous effort I put into trying to impress her.
The whole phantom aspect of it is the other most difficult part. I feel like I was completely violated by a fucking ghost. How could they have been that silent? That quick? That I was standing 10 feet away, completely alone in the store with the music at a low volume and I heard absolutely nothing, saw absolutely nothing? I was only away for two minutes. They're professionals, I know. But the feeling of violation, of trickery, of deviance, is so overwhelming and creepy and haunting me. A fucking ghost. I just can't believe it. I want a face. I want a face.
Mall security, hoco police officer, shipment delivery guy, LP Tom...all telling me there's no need to cry, it's okay, as I fell to pieces. Well, as sweet as they all are...screw them. You get $2400 worth of merchndise stolen right from under your nose while you were responsible for it, while you're trying to prove yourself to all of your superiors, and try to not cry about it. Obviously, thankfully, I'm surrounded by people who know how it feels, but none of those people are amongst that group. So don't tell me how I should feel. Don't you dare.
I will still feel like a failure no matter what. That side of my brain will always win.
The whole phantom aspect of it is the other most difficult part. I feel like I was completely violated by a fucking ghost. How could they have been that silent? That quick? That I was standing 10 feet away, completely alone in the store with the music at a low volume and I heard absolutely nothing, saw absolutely nothing? I was only away for two minutes. They're professionals, I know. But the feeling of violation, of trickery, of deviance, is so overwhelming and creepy and haunting me. A fucking ghost. I just can't believe it. I want a face. I want a face.
Mall security, hoco police officer, shipment delivery guy, LP Tom...all telling me there's no need to cry, it's okay, as I fell to pieces. Well, as sweet as they all are...screw them. You get $2400 worth of merchndise stolen right from under your nose while you were responsible for it, while you're trying to prove yourself to all of your superiors, and try to not cry about it. Obviously, thankfully, I'm surrounded by people who know how it feels, but none of those people are amongst that group. So don't tell me how I should feel. Don't you dare.
I will still feel like a failure no matter what. That side of my brain will always win.