Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Psyched out.
I thought I'd be done with my psych class by Monday night, but I ended up working 2.5 hours late (surprise) and I felt like playing my guitar and ukelele instead of studying.  I had some anxiety about the term paper, and I prepared myself for the likely outcome of a 70, a 60 or even a 50.  It was not poorly written, but from a technical standpoint, I expected the professor to bust my balls over the flimsy bibliography and a complete dearth of footnotes.  Fooled me, because he gave me a 100 on it.  This was most gratifying.  I've made a 100 on everything but the tests, which I've made an low A on all of those.  I only  have to make a 4 on my final (out of 150) to make a B, or 104 out of 150 to make an A.  I figure 2 out of 3 is a no brainer.

What is it with me and getting my ass chewed out by kooks at work on the phone, lately?  My natural mien on the phone is deferential, kindly and empathetic.  Lately, when people call in and are in a state of outrage (drunk or just plain crazy, in some cases) me speaking truth seems to really piss some people off.  The odd thing is, though, when people are super-shitty to me on the phone, I get a little more quiet, much less casual, but I seem to have a knack for acting as a catalyst for people who are primed to blow.

Okay, I just wanted to say that bit there.  People who are primed to blow want to blow, and are just determined to do so, and generally there is simply no talking them down from the ledge.  Oh, I could patronize them and turn it around, but I'm not going to mollycoddle someone or lie to them to shut them up and get them off my back. 

But another word on people who have an obvious comfort level with going all 'splodey and showing they ass on the phone with peon-level customer service schlubs like me: the world is not the murky, anonymous morass it once was, my darlings.  If you have a unique name (google your name and you'll see how many of you there are in the USA), you're much less anonymous to the person you are blowing up at.  My theory is that just like some people collect porcelain flowers or snuff boxes, some people collect shitty customer service experiences.  It's their axe to grind, their justification for rancor and bitterness in life, and it's always someone else's fault.   All this is a roundabout way to say there should be a shitty customer archive somewhere where people can be outed for being the nasty people they are.  Someone named Jim Johnson may slip through the net on  that one, but if Miss Lilliepatrice Gigglesnort shows up there, you can bet she's the only one in the USA. 

Is there such a site? If so, let me know.  I have a list.

My guitar playing is progressing nicely.  The weird thing is I never realized how fast my nails grow. I have to trim them frequently.  I told my teacher that I'd like to write music eventually, and he said "why not start now?"  He gave me some basic tips on chord progressions and assigned me to compose a chord progression in the key of C major.  I must say it's not half bad, and I've even composed a little melody to go with.  I need a keyboard.  I'm glad I have this diversion-- I think it's kept me sane this summer.

Hopefully I'll have news of an A on my test tomorrow.  Cheers!
Written by phlegmfatale
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Name: Phlegmfatale
Location: Elsewhere, Texas, USA

I'm not whining;
I'm unburdening.

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