Allison Roberts

After twelve hours on my feet listening to alarms sing, getting trapped in a five minute weather monologue feels like a slow drip IV. People never notice you dying on the vine. The polite part is tough when someone is mid-story, and I do not have the energy to wait for a chapter break. Half the time my brain is chanting charting, water, sit, and my smile is on autopilot. I still want to be kind, but I also want to get out without burning what is left of my social battery. What works is a warm thank you wrapped around a concrete task. I say I've loved this, I need to grab water and check on someone, and I take two steps as I say it. If they are mid-sentence, I tap my badge, do a tiny sorry to cut in, and give the reason plus good wish like I hope you get that trip booked. One practical tip that never fails for me is holding an empty cup so I always have a refill excuse that gets me moving.