There was no obviously marked, receptionist-manned entrance for visitors once I stepped off the elevators, just some blank doors with cardkey locks. I had been given the phone number of the person I was to interview with, and I called to let him know I had arrived. I got his voicemail. I left a message and cooled my heels in the elevator lobby for a bit. After a few minutes with no change in the situation, I started looking at the doors more closely. One of them at least had a doorbell, and when I looked through that window I saw the name of the company I was looking for. So I rang.
Someone answered the door, I explained who I was, and they let me in and asked me to wait while they tracked down my interviewer. But for several minutes they couldn't find him. Finally, the HR person I had mainly been corresponding with called me, and she explained that my interviewer had left suddenly due to a family emergency. And there was no backup plan other than to reschedule. So, I left (though I did try to tell someone as I was leaving that they could call off the search).
Emergencies happen (they've certainly imposed on my work schedule more than once) so I'm not bitter or anything, but it was kind of amazing how, after I had posted yesterday about what a crazy week it had been, there proceeded to be one more bonkers twist for Friday afternoon.
Or two twists! I killed some time until my usual homeward-bound train was due at the station. Then I rode back to the local stop, got in my car, and was finally able to plug in my cell phone, which had of course died while I was idly out and about for half the day. At that point I got a text my wife had sent earlier, alerting me to the fact that on Thursday (the day the little guy was supposed to start and finish at daycare with school in the middle, but instead went daycare-school-neighbor's) the little guy had left some things in his daycare cubby, things like snow boots that he would probably need this weekend (and, in fact, it is snowing right now as I type this). So I altered course from the train parking garage and drove over to daycare.
(Incidentally, along the way I arrived at a traffic light intersection where I had to make a left, and I was the first car in the left turn lane, which has its own arrow signal. I was also facing more or less due west, and the setting winter sun was directly above the signal. It was impossible to see whether the arrow was red or green (I knew it had been red as I approached) because looking at the signal meant looking directly into the blinding sun. OH MAN DO I HATE THE SETTING WINTER SUN!)
I got to daycare and the teachers were slightly freaked out to see me since they weren't aware of any of my kids being there, but I set them at ease and said I was just picking up some of my son's stuff. Only to find his cubby completely empty. Had someone moved his things? Had another child mistakenly taken them? Had he actually taken everything to his elementary school, and left it there? I eliminated as many possibilities as I could, got assurances from the director that they would keep an eye out for things, and finally headed home.
The little guy didn't remember bringing his snow boots to school, but then again his memory is even spottier than mine. My wife double-checked her car, and sure enough, there was the pile of missing things. I'm not telling this story to shame her, because as I told her at the time I completely understand how she could lose track of where everything wound up over the course of the last few days' insanity. It was just that kind of week.