The fucking bus did not show up Thursday afternoon. Instead of getting to work 20 minutes early, I was 15 minutes late. I was, needless to say, upset.
I had been late before due to missing a bus from a probation meeting. I was sure I was getting written up.
That thought magnified in my brain and stressed me out. This was not beneficial to me as we were busy as shit that night. I did not have a good shift all because I was stuck in my own head.
I built up a speech in my head to tell the chef at the end of shift. Here's how the conversation went in my head:
Chef: "So, John...I wanted to talk to you about earlier..."
Me: "Listen, man...I just wanted to let you know that I am sick about coming in late. I've been through the wringer, and because of my bullshit, I have not always been the most timely employee. Great worker, but I used to have excuse after excuse and slide by being late or sick through office jobs.
"And when I'd go to work, I'd be hungover or still drunk, or maybe I'd be high. It was bad, chef. Not happy with that. So now, I'm doing all the right things...and moving forward I now know I have to come to work even earlier to have a fail safe...if I miss one bus I can catch the second. It sucks that I was late due to no fault of my own, but I don't want to sound like the old me of having excuses and blaming others. So, I'm down with you following whatever protocol you need to do, written warning or write-up, whatever...just know I'm going to give you my best, and I will do everything possible to not put you guys in this position again."
This is how the conversation actually went:
Chef: "Looks good. You can still catch a late bus?"
Me: "Uh, yes, it should come by in about 10 minutes."
Chef: "Great. Have a good night, man."
Me: "...Okay, night."
Yeah. Don't believe your thoughts. And remember to breathe.