Met a woman maybe 15 years my senior today who may end up performing a service I need done, and today’s visit was the “informational” type (in other words: gratis). Nice lady, very direct (like I tend to be) but a lot more aggressive—inside AND outside—and I had to offer her some very personal information about myself, which I did.
(Side note: No, she isn’t a therapist. Like I need a therapist? Holy heathenites, it’s the all-about-Annik-show-! in my head ALL THE TIME anyway. Oh yeah, I’ve tried “talk therapy”; I remember spending all the sessions w/all 4 of them—3 women, 1 man, one lying-down couch, one who lived down the street and was so bullying she made me cry immediately before even asking me to fill out the insurance forms—working hard to get them to like and admire me & see how very “healthy” I was and let me know it was all a terrible mistake. I’m pretty sure a good therapist would see through that ruse (& realize that this alone was something to work out). David Rakoff taught me that. What I really need is shut-the-hell-up-Annik-&-get-off-your-complacent-ass therapy. Anyone got any expertise in that?
But I digress.
This 55+ chiquita spent about 70% of the time trying to impress ME about HER. (And don’t get me wrong: she seemed…impressive. I guess I did too or maybe it wouldn’t have felt like that? I’m confused; people are confusing.) Said her “former poetry major classmates from the University of Utah all blanched when they all met one day years ago and she told them what SHE does for a living. Apparently they went back to their waitressing, tutoring, and IT jobs Then she finally asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up.
And as I fondled my chin hairs and wondered if the 4 week period (as in the menstruating period, not period as in several moments in time joined together) I’d been been dribbling out and ruining several pairs of undies combined with the 3-day ache-turned-sharpness in my lower gut and the 4 months ago abnormal, pre-cancerous pap I’d had, had anything to to do with each other, I answered “A fireman.”
Then the hour was up, an adorably nervous man named Mahmoud was waiting outside we both realized we’d been chatting about things that had nothing to do with the job at hand and so now I have to go AGAIN on Weds.
Maybe. I’ll sleep on it (not that I sleep). More tomorrow.
Ick, tomorrow. 1:1 tomorrow with…a certain person; people in certain positions with certain companies who’ve been trained to use that method of “communicating/breaking down/sussing out…whatever. Erf. MY 1:1 guy (a year this month or regular irregularly 1:1s—thank heathen) does NOT get me (ditto). But I gotta keep the job that’s been handed to me and I never have a job without giving it 110%; it’s just not in my goody-goody DNA (Dad?)side, or heavily annoying work ethic (whether I believe in the project or not).
Now I shut up! Only about 3 people have this blog URL; once we get going and if I think there’s some value, I’ll employ my SEO tactics and see who falls (& stays) in…