That Woman
Yesterday was not a good day. I woke up cranky and pretty much stayed that way. I called my doctor's office just before noon needing a little advice for a problem that has been vexing me for a few days. The nurse I spoke to took my info and said she'd call me back after she spoke to my doctor. Nearly four hours later I still had not heard back from her. I was livid. I called the office back and pressed "4" for the nurse again as the message instructed, only to wait through 5 repetitions of "Thank you for waiting. Our nurses are busy with other patients." I was finally transferred to another voice mail system that apologized for their inability to take my call and to leave a message. Another voice came on instructing me what info to leave and then that voice changed to another instructing me to leave the message after the beep.
And then I turned into the woman I hate to talk to.
I really dislike leaving voicemail messages of any kind because they tend to leave evidence of my occasional stupidity. I rarely leave pissed-off messages, but when I do they're a thing of beauty. Yesterday was no exception. I left a detailed messaged explaining my problem yet again and how I was very irritated with the office and that I hoped someone would call me back before my baby decides to emerge from my womb yadda, yadda, yadda....
I spend a good part of my working day taking calls and can't stand talking to people like the person I was yesterday. I can blame it on hormones, and I certainly was hormonal, but I have to be honest and admit I've never been the nicest person on the phone when things don't go my way. You'd think I'd have learned something after answering thousands of calls over the past four years, but no. I guess my attitude has been fueling my karmic comeuppance because I certainly get as good as I give on some days.
So when did I become this demanding phone woman? I think I turned to the dark side in high school in response to an incident that involved my brother and a tube of toothpaste on a school bus. Some kid on the bus decided to empty his tube of Crest all over my brother's jacket. I witnessed it, but most importantly the bus driver witnessed it and didn't do a thing.
I'll be the first to admit that Sean was a little shit when he was a kid. I know that bus driver didn't like him and probably had a tube of Colgate at home she would have gladly contributed to the pasty graffiti that was smeared all over his back. On that bus though, she was the authority figure and I felt she should have put a stop to what was going down. I saw her smirk reflected in that panoramic rear view mirror and it made my blood boil.
Partly out of wanting justice and partly out of feeling guilty for my own inaction on the bus, I called the school's transportation office when I got home. I pretended to be my mother. People were always mistaking the two of us on the phone anyway so I figured I could get away with it. I remember trying to sound convincingly angry, and I was angry, but I wanted to sound adult angry. I wanted to be the kind of angry you didn't mess with. I remember the fear I felt that I would be found out, but the person on the other end was politely apologetic and assured me that the bus driver would be spoken to.
Regardless of whether or not I was truly convincing as an angry adult, I also remember the power I felt once I hung up the receiver. For the first time I felt as though my voice had been heard. I was a kid and had actually made someone else (I thought) feel like a subordinate. It was so cool! It was a high like none other I'd ever felt before. If I could have spent the rest of my life dressing down people over the phone I probably wouldn't have gotten as fat as I did.
I realize this is probably not the best attitude one should have when she's getting ready to bring another life into this world. After all, does the world really need another bitch? I've spoken to many a bitch on the phone and they're not fun. They're always mean and they always think they're right. But they get results. That's the kicker. The bitch gets the job done and gets what she wants. I received a call back from the doctor's office within a half hour of leaving my message.
I'm not saying it's good or right to be "difficult", but people do whatever works for them. I truly wish I could be more like my mother. She's the most docile and easy going person I know. Ghandi would have looked up to her. Unfortunately my father also figures into the mix and he has a bit of a temper and isn't always patient with people. I'm a mixture of them both, though I'm sure Dad wouldn't appreciate me attributing my more unpleasant personality traits to his chromosomal contribution.
So what's in store for my kid? Will she take after me and have a temper or will she follow Nathan's example and quietly stew in her anger? As a parent, I could say I would want my daughter to be nice and polite all the time, but chances are she's going to be an only child. She won't have the older silbling to take care of her, nor will she feel the need to protect a younger sibling from harm. She's going to have to learn how to stick up for herself and channel the bitch from time to time. Hopefully she'll be able to learn how to do it without leaving a voicemail.
And then I turned into the woman I hate to talk to.
I really dislike leaving voicemail messages of any kind because they tend to leave evidence of my occasional stupidity. I rarely leave pissed-off messages, but when I do they're a thing of beauty. Yesterday was no exception. I left a detailed messaged explaining my problem yet again and how I was very irritated with the office and that I hoped someone would call me back before my baby decides to emerge from my womb yadda, yadda, yadda....
I spend a good part of my working day taking calls and can't stand talking to people like the person I was yesterday. I can blame it on hormones, and I certainly was hormonal, but I have to be honest and admit I've never been the nicest person on the phone when things don't go my way. You'd think I'd have learned something after answering thousands of calls over the past four years, but no. I guess my attitude has been fueling my karmic comeuppance because I certainly get as good as I give on some days.
So when did I become this demanding phone woman? I think I turned to the dark side in high school in response to an incident that involved my brother and a tube of toothpaste on a school bus. Some kid on the bus decided to empty his tube of Crest all over my brother's jacket. I witnessed it, but most importantly the bus driver witnessed it and didn't do a thing.
I'll be the first to admit that Sean was a little shit when he was a kid. I know that bus driver didn't like him and probably had a tube of Colgate at home she would have gladly contributed to the pasty graffiti that was smeared all over his back. On that bus though, she was the authority figure and I felt she should have put a stop to what was going down. I saw her smirk reflected in that panoramic rear view mirror and it made my blood boil.
Partly out of wanting justice and partly out of feeling guilty for my own inaction on the bus, I called the school's transportation office when I got home. I pretended to be my mother. People were always mistaking the two of us on the phone anyway so I figured I could get away with it. I remember trying to sound convincingly angry, and I was angry, but I wanted to sound adult angry. I wanted to be the kind of angry you didn't mess with. I remember the fear I felt that I would be found out, but the person on the other end was politely apologetic and assured me that the bus driver would be spoken to.
Regardless of whether or not I was truly convincing as an angry adult, I also remember the power I felt once I hung up the receiver. For the first time I felt as though my voice had been heard. I was a kid and had actually made someone else (I thought) feel like a subordinate. It was so cool! It was a high like none other I'd ever felt before. If I could have spent the rest of my life dressing down people over the phone I probably wouldn't have gotten as fat as I did.
I realize this is probably not the best attitude one should have when she's getting ready to bring another life into this world. After all, does the world really need another bitch? I've spoken to many a bitch on the phone and they're not fun. They're always mean and they always think they're right. But they get results. That's the kicker. The bitch gets the job done and gets what she wants. I received a call back from the doctor's office within a half hour of leaving my message.
I'm not saying it's good or right to be "difficult", but people do whatever works for them. I truly wish I could be more like my mother. She's the most docile and easy going person I know. Ghandi would have looked up to her. Unfortunately my father also figures into the mix and he has a bit of a temper and isn't always patient with people. I'm a mixture of them both, though I'm sure Dad wouldn't appreciate me attributing my more unpleasant personality traits to his chromosomal contribution.
So what's in store for my kid? Will she take after me and have a temper or will she follow Nathan's example and quietly stew in her anger? As a parent, I could say I would want my daughter to be nice and polite all the time, but chances are she's going to be an only child. She won't have the older silbling to take care of her, nor will she feel the need to protect a younger sibling from harm. She's going to have to learn how to stick up for herself and channel the bitch from time to time. Hopefully she'll be able to learn how to do it without leaving a voicemail.
