stupidstupidstupid.

Okay. So I know that I haven't worked at The Bistro in over three weeks, but I was still invited to the Christmas Party, mostly because I still did work there when we drew names for Secret Santa. And I had every intention of going, even as I put in my notice, even as I worked my last day, even as the party drew closer and closer and I wanted less and less to go. I was determined to go to the stupid party, if nothing else than just to prove everyone wrong. They clearly thought I was not coming, all because of the Pig-Pickin' incident.

There was another employee holiday party at Halloween. I was expected to attend. I said I would attend, and I was signed up to bring brownies. The thing is, Halloween is the day after my birthday. When I said I would be at the pig-pickin', I obviously intended to drink more water and less alcohol the night before than I actually did. So on Halloween, I was very very sick. Hungover sick that I did to myself, but sick enough that I couldn't go to any stupid pig-pickin' where vomiting would not be encouraged. I called and told them I was sick. I even admitted the reason, thinking that since I worked with a bunch of partiers, they would understand. Not only did they not understand, they didn't even believe my excuse. (Apparently, when you drink frequently, you handle hangovers better or something. I have no idea.)

So it was clear that there was some doubt as to whether I would make it to the Christmas party, which was last night. But I was going to go. I had cookies and I had my Secret Santa gift. I was going to go to this stupid party. I only became even more determined when I received a message on my answering machine reminding me of the party this past weekend.

I spent the day down the mountain with my sister-in-law baking cookies for this party yesterday. Around the time that I needed to leave, the weather started getting iffy. I left for the party anyway, because that's just how stubborn I am. But I called my apartment to check my messages, just to see if the party had been changed because of the weather. Sure enough, I had a message from my old boss, saying the party had been moved to "tomorrow at five-thirty". Since I was hearing the message on Sunday, I assumed that meant the party was now on Monday. You can see where I am going here.

I get back to my apartment a few minutes ago and there is a new message. It is from one of my former coworkers, basically telling me off for not showing up, not calling, and not dropping off my Secret Santa gift. As the result of my inconsiderate actions, someone didn't have a gift under the tree. (Apparently, this sort of inconsiderate action ran rampant last night, as I also did not have a gift under the tree.) The message I heard Sunday night was left on Saturday night. Now I have a batch of cookies and a present for someone else and a restaurant full of people mad at me.

I'm going to go in tonight and apologize. I'm going to give the present I bought and I'm going to share the cookies I helped make. I'm going to tell them what happened. I will not expect to be believed. I will expect to be talked about in disparaging tones once I leave. That is what I am going to do.

What I am going to try to do is not let this bug me. There was a misunderstanding, and I'm going to do the most I can do to make it right. But if I am not forgiven, I will say "Screw it" and get on with my life.

Then I will eat all of the rest of the cookies all by myself in one sitting.