i was at the checkout paying for some groceries earlier, when i heard a thud and a crack. turning around, a young man in waitrose uniform stood hovering over what was once a bottle of wine on display, but now a pool of red with a smattering of broken glass chunks. dismay was written all over his face, as he stared at the mess on the floor, frozen,
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i had to bear the responsibility. i might not have been the executor, but i was the supervisor. i answered to it and admitted my mistake. but i couldn't do anything more; i was too far from base camp to rectify the matter. and i coolly replied, "there's nothing i can do now. and if a paddle breaks, there's nothing we can do. i'm sorry. so, shall we go on?"
i guess that's how we should handle the unforeseen, the manifests of murphy's much disdained laws. rather than crying over spilt milk, we should just forget what we can and move on while we are able to. the blame game only wastes time and energy that can be better directed to the mitigation of errors.
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