After we had our son, I was on maternity leave from my teller supervisor job for 6 weeks. Oh man, how I enjoyed those 6 weeks. C-man was a decent sleeper, but he was on a routine to nurse every 3 hours or so. So every 3 hours, the dairy queen (me) would arise from my slumber and stumble and fumble around until we got situated and he latched on. Usually, I would end up falling asleep sometime in the middle of feeding him and wake up with a crick in my neck. That's neither here nor there though.
Before I knew it, those 6 weeks were up and I had to get back to work. I was a zombie that first month back to work. I had gotten used to those afternoon naps with my baby. I relied entirely on coffee and Diet Pepsi to get me through the day. One day around lunch time, I ran to the convenience store to get my caffeine fix. Turns out I needed gas too. So, I started filling up and ran inside for my saving grace. I paid for my gas and Diet Pepsi and chatted with the clerk, who was one of our customers at the bank. We talked about the baby, work, and my sleep deprivation. I finished up with her, and ran back to my car. Got in, started it up, and started to drive off. Then I heard the thud. Looking back in my mirror, I realized the horror of what just happened. Of what an idiot I was. Of how out of it I had really been. The gas nozzle was still in my car. Luckily, if there is any luck in this story, it had a breakaway hose. So, the hose broke away from the machine and there wasn't any damage to their machine and amazingly there was no damage to my vehicle. However, there was damage to my pride, I had to go back to the clerk and tell her what I had just done. She was a fun clerk but got a little wound up at times. I went back inside with my tail tucked between my legs and told her, "Um, Janice, I um...just...um...tried to drive away with the gas nozzle still in my car." Her response, "Oh God!! ROY, go fix the gas tank. Carrie tried to drive off with it." I told her I was so sorry and she said it wasn't a big deal, that it was fixable. I went back to the bank and tried to nurse my pride. She came in an hour later to make her deposit. I avoided her completely. Didn't even look in her direction. She didn't say a word about the incident, but I knew it wouldn't be long before it made it around the little town I worked in. I had to fess up. I had to tell my other tellers or else they would hear it from someone else. So, I did. I was mortified.
I didn't tell my husband for quite some time though. I didn't really figure that would do either of us any good. He had been working like a dog. The last thing he needed to hear was that his wife and mother of his two children was a complete moron.
Over and out,
Carrie
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