I feel like telling this story about my old summer job and the reason I stopped being passionate about work.
Wednesday night during the summer I had visited my friend and the weather had shifted from a storm into a a full blown hurricane that we were caught in. We had no prior warnings that there would be a hurricane besides our phones going off seconds before it hit us. Well to keep things short,, I survived but my friend didn't.
It was pretty traumatic to say the least and I let my boss know that I was going to take a few days off, as well as stressed to her that I was going to attend the funeral. At first she was completely understanding and agreed but after the 3rd day she started calling me to tell me that I needed to get back to work pronto.
So I did, and my coworker(who later was the reason I actually quit due to harrassment) told me to stop talking about the events because she was tired of hearing it and I kept repeating myself (still processing because I witnessed my friend's death btw). Overall they dropped the caring act after I came back to work.
I get the news from her family on what day the funeral will be and I tell my boss that I will be taking that day off for it. She told me that I had already taken 3 days off during our oh-so-busy summer and that if I went to the funeral she couldn't guarantee my employment anymore. At the time I was alot more naive and didn't want to disappoint my family by getting fired so I missed it. I had to tell my friend's family that I couldn't make it because I needed to work.
This job would pride itself on how it was like family working there, but when It came to your actual family, they couldn't give a shit less. If I had a chance to redo things I would've told her to fuck off and had seen my friend again.