The end of plan B

Me: I'm going to give you a choice. You can either go on vacation this weekend or you can follow through with plan B. I want you to give this some thought. Let me know your answer because I'll have to get plane tickets tonight if you're flying out tomorrow.
Coworker: Ok. I'll think about it.

15 minutes later, I get this in my email:

A-----,

As you can imagine, it is extremely difficult for me to make a choice between Plan B and [Vacation Plans]. You are well aware that Plan B is 'so very close to my heart' but then when I think about it further, I realize that you ought to lose a lot to gain some. Therefore, after a lot of brain racking, with extreme sadness, I opt for [Vacation Plans]. I choose the difficult option of 'living my remaining days' rather than the far easier and convenient option of 'dying a most satisying death.'

Regards,
Coworker

Well done, Coworker. Well done. Go and live out your remaining days as you so choose. I applaud your well thought response.

An honest appraisal

After coming back from a meeting

Me [Frustrated]: It's getting closer.
Coworker: Oh no.
Me: Yes. It's going to happen.
Coworker: Plan B?
Me: No. Not that.
Coworker: We're going to duel to the death?
Me: No. Worse.
Coworker: Oh no. Oh God no.
Me: Say it.
Coworker: I'm going to have to take over your position.
Me: Can you think of anything worse?
Coworker: There is nothing worse than that.
Me: You're going to have to man up. You're going to have to grow another set of balls. Maybe four or five of them.
Coworker [trembling, whispering]: I don't think that's going to be enough.

A different kind of strategery

Me: Ok. We're in crisis mode. We're skipping completely over plan B and going straight to plan C.

Coworker: What's plan C?

Me: I'm flying out to Wisconsin to try to calm down the customer, fix all their problems, and make magic happen.

Coworker: Can you really do all of that?

Me: No. Probably not. So we're going to have to keep plan B open as an option. Do you remember plan B?

Coworker: Yes.

Me: Are you ready to do plan B?

Coworker: I think so.

Me: That's not good enough. I need to know you can do this. Can you commit to plan B? Are you ready to do this?

Coworker: Yes. Yes I can.

Flashback to several weeks ago

Me: You take Customer A. They have 140 dispensers. I need you to fix them. All of them. You have until Friday.

[Some dialogue]

Coworker: But what if I fail? What do I do if I can't fix them all?

Me: We go to plan B.

Coworker: What's plan B?

Me: You fly to Wisconsin and you apologize profusely to the customer for not being able to fix his stuff.

Coworker: What do I do if that isn't enough?

Me: You set yourself on fire.

Flash back to the present

Me: Remember, the whole purpose of plan B is to get the customer to feel so bad for you that he isn't mad at us anymore. So you have to make sure he sees you when you set yourself on fire.

Coworker: Ok. I got it.

Anatomy of an adultry

They have 3 kids. He a teacher. She a theologian and a ministry leader. They have a beautiful and warm house.

It was a home.

I remember evening dinners, lengthy and deep conversations, playing with the kids and movie nights. Starting up the wood fireplace and telling stories until we fell sleep.

I looked up to them. I wanted what they had. I hoped to have even a fraction of what they had some day.

So how could it end? And how can their mutual friends look on and watch as she left for another man? How they manage to continue calling her friend and laugh as if nothing happened bewilders me. It crushes my heart. I can't understand how this is acceptable. And the more I find out and the more I uncover, the more my heart breaks.

I'm not ok with this

Home

means freedom.

I think I'm about to go out and wander like a puppy.

waking up to the sound of music

Got a phone call at 5:30am this morning. Thought it was my boss again. Turned out to be a friend. What a wonderful way to wake up. Timely encouragement. I've only been out here a week, but I'm ready to throw myself off the roof. At least for now, that readiness is dissipated.

Familiarity

Familiar enough that the front desk knows me by name.
Familiar enough to call my hotel room "home" when I received my keys.
Familiar enough to have "my" breakfast waitress exclaim in delight to see me.
Familiar enough to receive a line of hugs from customers when I entered the facility.
Familiar enough to see old oppugners quickly change route to circle around me.
Familiar enough to leave my gps off.
Familiar enough to walk, not drive, to the grocery store (and have a discount card for the regional chain).
Familiar enough to give directions to the locals.
Familiar enough to bypass tourist attractions and instead settle into an armchair in a used book store and fall promptly asleep.