My estimate was dead-on. By 7:30, all my boxes had been moved to the other room, my bed was buried in electronic equipment, and I was just printing out instructions for whatever poor soul they convinced to crawl around in the horrible scary attic.
But, as I head for the door, I'm told the phone guy will also have to get at the corner I've stacked my boxes in. And that the carpet guys need me to take down some computers so they won't be liable for any damage that comes from having touched them. So, I call the office, apologize, and explain the situation. I'm going to be horribly late, but I'll get there as soon as I can.
It's frustrating, it's disagreeable, and there's manual labor involved. But I get through it in less than an hour.
I arrive at the office at 8:50, and join the meeting in progress...
- boss: Do you like being late?
self: I hate it.
boss: You know, the truck accident was on the other side of the freeway.
self: I know nothing of a truck accident.
boss: Of course not. You should set your alarm clock earlier, though. Would 5am get you here on time?
self: Not when something comes up at the last minute, no. When that happens, the time I wake up is inconsequential.
boss: This is becoming a serious problem.
self: Check the logs. I've been here early every day for the past few weeks, and what's more, I stay late. I regularly work through lunch, and that was my day off I came in on yesterday.
boss: I looked at the logs. You're starting to do better.
self: No, I'm continuing to do well. Early is not late.
boss: You've been doing okay. But then today comes, and look where we are.
self: Call the house, talk to the contractors. They'll tell you this was neither expected nor avoidable.
boss: I don't need to call the contractors. That's not my problem.
self: I never said it was.
boss: Which brings us to the new policy we just decided on: If everybody isn't on time every day, we'll be switching the whole office over to timecards on the 15th. No more people on salary. One person's late, everyone gets punished. But if you all band together and make sure everyone else gets here on time; beat them up if you have to, we won't have to resort to such measures.
So... He called me a liar several times in front of my co-workers, insulted my honor half a dozen ways, and is trying to pin responsibility on me for the unpopular decision he's about to make.
I should call him on it. I really should. Two weeks notice would take me out of the equation - he'd have to stand behind his policy or back slowly away from it.
...but I'm not done yet. I still have tasks I've committed to completing, not the least of which being to pave the way for my successor.
But I tell you, I'd feel a whole lot better about staying if that man would just stop assuming we're all desperate to keep working here.