8:50am Will I get caught?
Bing. Floor eighteen.
Twenty minutes late – no excuses – my only hope is not to get caught.
I exit the elevator, greet the receptionist and walk through the reception area. After a right turn, I walk past a couple of meeting rooms and head toward the main office door.
What lies behind this closed door may determine my fate. If Bill is in his office, he will see me as I walk to my desk. The conversation will follow is too unbearable to contemplate. If not, I may not get caught and I need not stress.
Too late for prayers at this stage.
With a sick feeling in my stomach, I hold my security pass adjacent to the sensor. Click, click - the security door unlocks. I push it open and walk through, entering possibly my last day in this office.
My eyes scan frantically for any sign of Bill. In his office?…No….Talking to anyone?…No…In the staff kitchen?…No.
Relax! The coast is clear. No need to stress. Chill out.
I can take my time, put my bag down, get a coffee, go to the toilet, chat with a couple of people, email a few mates, check my share prices, play a couple of computer games and take it easy. No need to start any real work for another twenty minutes.
What was I worried about?
Being late matters only when you get caught.
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