Why I Was Too Busy at Work that I Accidentally Stole Something

By a show of hands, who here has all experienced a time when you rushed to get something finished and your brain was so frazzled by the end of the task, you made a mistake or did something without realizing it?

Yeah, I thought so. Even though I couldn’t see your hands raise, I know without a doubt that everyone has. I can’t tell you how many times I have, because these sort of blunders are almost as routine as washing my hands. But there is this one moment where I can thank my lucky stars it didn’t have a negative outcome. Or thank God. Or both!

Many moons ago in my pharmacy career back when I lived in the quaint small City of Westfield, Indiana, I was constantly rushing at the end of the night. There were more prescriptions needing filled in the queue each day than technician hours. And in corporate America, the new normal seems to be “increase productivity by reducing labor hours” which we all know does not work that way. This one particular night, I found myself scrambling around to fill the remaining thirty scripts in the queue within the last hour. My efforts to appease my cohorts opening the next morning seemed more important than a reasonable pace. You truly don’t understand this concept until you’re “unspoken-ly” reigned ‘the workplace whipping post.’

That night, we had a floater pharmacist closing with me and as you might already imagine it was just her and myself for the last five hours of the day. Unfortunately the politics of the pharmacy industry have worsened considerably since then in 2011. The fills remaining on the screen were only the automatic refills due for the following day. But there’s no worse feeling than starting out a shift with two pages of drugs to fill hours before the sun even rises. Somehow, I did it. The surprise was only due to the fact of working with a floater pharmacist who God bless her soul started her career in the days of apothecaries. Portia, if you are up in God’s kingdom by now, I say that with love and respect.

But my brain was so very tired. Not only did that mean filling the scripts, labeling them, and waiting for Portia to verify them–it also meant filing them away in the waiting bin. Also factor in putting away the stock bottles back to their respective shelves and the minor housekeeping of closing duties, and you had a very fretted Chuck/Carl by the time I was walking out to my van. In fact, I was only rushed out of the pharmacy because the the closing front-end supervisor was in a big hurry to leave (as per usual). So here I am using my key to unlock my driver’s side door.

The frigid negative twelve degrees on an icy December night in Indiana usually renders automated locks useless.

I climb into the seat so I could begin the wait for my windshield to defrost enough as I glance into my other hand. There I sat clattering my teeth in a freezing frenzy while noticing I was still holding onto my counting spatula. The pharmacy’s counting spatula. Let me tell you that theft of any reason is a bad thing, let alone from an environment which loss prevention and security are top priorities. I was mortified. I’d been running ragged the entire night and somehow my brain didn’t think to let go of it. To you, it was just a spatula. Thank goodness it wasn’t a stock bottle of medicine or something way worse, right? But theft is theft and I didn’t even intend to take it. My hand just never let it go.

I went into work the rest of the week wondering if someone had noticed, because it was the most favored counting spatula. You develop these sorts of preferences when you rely on something as simple as a spatula to help keep up a fast momentum. Obviously it was the most brought up subject behind the counter that following day and nobody let up on the subject the whole rest of the week until one of our favorite patients passed away and that became the new hot topic. Did I turn it back in? No, I didn’t.

I was too scared of the backlash it would have caused because I was already the resident whipping boy.

Neurodiverse adults tend to don some inscription on their forehead making them vulnerable to workplace bullying. And I was also not wanting to be watched like a hawk because I took something from the pharmacy. Since it wasn’t a drug bottle, and I would never have ever taken a drug bottle in my right mind, I didn’t want to unnecessarily add some target to my back. I’m just thankful it was something relatively innocent such as a spatula.

The moral of the story is, we too often are in a hurry and we make little mistakes. Steps are skipped and usually we become absentminded in what we’re doing. As we bring this week to a close, let this be a good reminder that God is in control of our lives and our feet, and we need not rush to the approval of others. While there is certainly something to be said for helping lighten the loads of our fellow man, we have to make sure that our ability to do so isn’t going to compromise the quality of our intentions. Sometimes, just sometimes, the morning techs will have to start out their shifts with a few extra things to complete.

Thursday Thought: “How (are) You Doing?”

“I’m fine.” 

We’ve all been there. You know what I mean. With just the simple two words, we know deep in our hearts that we are not fine. Because all of God’s children are cut from the same cloth, we are instinctively respondent in the same manner. Sometimes we think that when someone asks how we are doing, that we shouldn’t need to burden them with our problems. Other times, I use it as a mask because we are afraid of living in the truth. The enemy makes us hide this insecurity because he wants to take our minds captive and build those sandcastles of shame over our hearts (see an earlier post last week for this reference). What happens, though, if we are honest? We could just very well be opening our hearts to the very thing we need to hear that day, that month, that year. Because Jesus is walking beside us, guiding us to the people we need most in our life, if only we could be honest with ourselves and others, we might be more prone to a further positive outcome than we ever expected. 

There was a study performed in the United Kingdom by The Mental Health Foundation. 2,000 British adults were surveyed on this very subject and concluded that the average adult responds similarly with “I’m fine.” The survey added that less than a fourth of those [19%] were being honest. Take a quick peep at this video compiled by The Mental Health Foundation in The UK. 

Of the other results from the survey, it was revealed that over half [59%] expect the answer to be a lie when we ask others how they are doing. What this tells me is, we have a huge opportunity to reach out and help make a positive impact on a person’s day. And it all starts with a genuine, more Christlike approach. Of course, we may not have all the answers that person is particularly needing. But just as Jesus would never shy away (and without any hesitation) from healing the sick, giving the blind sight, or freeing the afflicted, we have the tools necessary to lead that person in the direction they need. Yes, if you guessed praying for them in that very moment, you get a gold star. 

Even I myself have not spent a whole lot of time in the past giving consideration to asking others how they are doing. Mostly because my brain feels so predisposed to straying away from strangers. This is one of the biggest downfalls as a Christian, and I can admit wholeheartedly that I am afraid of talking to strangers. Our parents taught us this as a kid. Though because I take everything so literally, I find myself so often screaming “stranger danger” (in my mind) than letting God put me in the path of safety and giving my faith to Him for if I speak to people I don’t know, it’s not going to have a negative outcome. While it certainly may end in a neutral one, surely it could provide something fruitful.

“Anxiety in a man’s heart weighs him down, but a good word makes him glad.” (Proverbs 12:25) 

There is a pattern I’m seeing here. Take a minute and read that verse yet one more time, ten more if needed. You see what I see? The twelfth chapter and twenty-fifth verse of Proverbs. 12-25. Seems to me that sometimes the best gift [good word] we can give someone else is Jesus, as that is surely his birthdate. The single most day which our Savior was born– to give us hope. 

Seeing through the eyes of Jesus is what we are called to do, and don’t we owe it to our brothers and sisters–even those whom we don’t know from Adam (idiomatically punny)–to walk about our lives giving consideration to how others are feeling truthfully? Does it cost us anything but five or ten minutes minimum to be the answer someone is truly seeking? Our time is the only thing which is replenished completely each and every single day (without effort or earning it), yet we fail in such big ways to give this form of compassion to our fellow man. Sometimes when they’re needing it most. 

For today’s Thursday Thought, I compel you all to do what I vow to. Today, I give my genuine promise to ask those around me how they are doing. And if I get the response “I’m fine” or any gut feeling their response might be masking the truth, I will ask them how I can help them. Far be it from me to be equipped of everything they’ll need, but I can be certain of one thing–I have the bountiful promise of God through prayer to light that fire. And so do you. 

A Cheese ‘in Time’ Saves Mine

“Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift!” (2 Corinthians 9:15)

We are headed into Thanksgiving once again as it’s just around the corner. While I’ve never been a big fan of Halloween, I always jumpstart my preparedness for the big feast. In the spirit of giving thanks, worship comes to mind. As does simplifying in life– for the umpteenth time while I sit here with a square of 60% Cacao Dark Chocolate (an all too recent discovery that I now love dark chocolate), I’m already compelled to burst out into praise. I’ve learned new lessons and relearned old ones. It’s such a cycle of learning that I don’t think any of us are ever prepared to live and let go. Sometimes we can’t just let go of certain things, but we owe it to ourselves and God to try.

I can’t help but recall a funny story from my childhood (well okay, one of the very many) and it all started on a brisk autumn day such as today. I was in the third grade. I sat before a blank sheet of ruled paper (for those of us that didn’t start learning our ABC’s from an iPad app, you know how to appreciate good old fashioned school supplies). “This task is simple. Write down a list of the things you’re thankful for and why, then we’ll explore proper sentence structure,” Mr. BeBe affirmed. But at nine years old, did I really know the right things to be thankful for? And would I be graded on my sentences or would I be judged based on what I thought I was thankful for?

I watched the minute hand make a handful of 360’s while the gears in gourd lacked motion as if somebody stuck my pencil between them bringing all trains of thought to a complete halt. What was I thankful for? Mr. BeBe said this would be the easy part, I thought. Finally a spark… In the words of Gru from Despicable Me—“Liiiigghhtt Bulb.” Already wiser than my years, I figured other kids would write down materialistic items (even though I didn’t know what materialistic meant at nine, I understood the concept) and I imagined of writing down blessings instead of things. I can remember just about everything I’d listed of what I was thankful for.

Cheese, because it’s orange and I like orange and it tastes so good. I considered having cheese was not only a gift available to me every time I opened the fridge door, but it also satisfied my hunger which was practically all the time.

Mindy’s being very nice today. I thought I was thankful for her good behavior because it was already almost lunchtime and I hadn’t got a headache from an annoying classmate. Only years later in middle school, I grew to know a very appropriate and friendly girl inside of Mindy.

Clocks. Granted this wasn’t a very original idea because I’d just spent five minutes staring at it on the wall. But I realized just then that without time, life would cease to exist. And what fun would that be?

Dinosaur bones. I can’t remember exactly why I wrote that down all these decades later, but I’m sure it had some significance then.

Martina McBride. Yes, perhaps the very first musical artist I grew to love. I was grateful for her melodic skill because after a hard day I could just go home and pop in her cassette tape (now I’m really showing my age) and the world was a better place. At least at nine, you couldn’t have convinced me otherwise!

Seeing mommy at school lots. In my early years, my mother was very healthy and extremely active in the Parent-Teacher Alliance and I’d see her at school with other moms all the time and if I wanted a hug during the day, all I’d have to do is walk to the office.

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:21)

In essence I knew of the simpler things in life even before aging into these double digits. I knew what I was thankful for and listed the important things while all the other kids wrote down Legos, Barbies and their Easy-Bake ovens (of which I asked for at Christmas for three years in a row and never got to have one of my own). Thanks a freakin’ lot, oh jolly Santa Claus! After lunch we learned how to put our list into paragraph form. So today as I clutch my palm into the handle of my mug, I can be thankful for wisdom. For life lessons that are taught and learned over and over again. For God’s grace on all those other kids in my third grade who didn’t treasure the simple life. Just kidding! And for good tasting coffee.

What simplicities are you most appreciative of today? Go forth with peace and love today. Enjoy your hump-day!