Take a Deep Breath
Generally I wouldn't make a post twice in one day (my life is hardly so exciting to warrent two posts) but today is special. Today was day of the GM. or; GM attacks, or Life and Times of an over-nuerotic, there-are-pills-for-that Manager.
You know, it was hardly my intention of starting this blog to turn it into another 'i hate my job and my boss let me count the ways' type of writing (and truthfully I don't hate her). This is to record a year of my life that supposedly is a turning point, a record of what I'm facing day to day to survive, to live and grow and become a 'real' person who just happens to deal with crippling fear as well as grocery's and dishes. It just so happens that I also have the most amazing talent of attracting the crazies. My life can be accounted for by the crazies; the high school friends who did impromtu monologues in grocery stores for the entertainment of customers, the random men who pop into my life to grab my hand and tell me I'm a sensitive artistic soul and a pisces (I'm a Leo...) or tell me they're from Greece and want to take me to a movie or tell me my incredible magnetism made him gravitate right towards me and I'm a 'classy lady'. I think I would almost be glad to get the wolf whistle and inquiry for my phone number.
So, in fact, this is just another page in the history of crazy people that gravitate towards me (or the other way around?). and today was a doozie.
I thank heaven I don't have to work with GM very often but today was one of those days where it's just the two of us. and, trust me, I'm considering consulting other people about GM's behavior because this has gone beyond 'normal' behavior in a professional setting. At first it's normal, here put up some flyers around the school, would you please go upstairs and get some envelopes ect. ect.
Then, as I sat there flipping through a catalogue, she goes 'oh, I have a project for you today' which to me conveys something that will take some hours to complete (doesn't it?). She told me (and this is exactly what she told me, my memory isn't that bad) that she wanted me to go through the list of people who donated items and fill in the blanks where there are no mailing addresses because she was going to mail out thank you letters.
I said, sure no problem.
There were at least forty different businesses on the list that had no address, no phone number or name of the manager so I figured this was something that was going to take at least the rest of the time I was going to be there to get done.
In my mind the best way to go about it was to take a scrap piece of paper and go through the list (there were two different ones saved on different parts of the file) and write down the business and what information was missing.
I use Google to find the businesses because it has all the information right there and I dunno, I guess I could just have copied and pasted it but I just like handwriting it to keep it organized (to me).
I feel as though I should have dramatic music cued in the background. Like the Jaws theme or O' Fortuna. GM wanders over to stand over my shoulder. and freezes like a bloodhound quivering over the scent of blood.
My literary skills lack the zeal to describe the following meltdown. I can just say, 'Dear God, it was like she was going to explode'. (Like the Death Star from Star Wars)
First she gives me a completely different story; why am I doing it this way, why didn't I just copy and paste from Google? I would have been done already (with nearly sixty different businesses, in half an hour?) she wanted it to be done by three o' clock, she needed this list NOW to print out and mail today. It was at this point when she just stopped mid-sentence and actually left the room.
I wish I had Spielberg to recreate the extraordinary drama packed into this one girl. My kneejerk reaction was to start stammering apologies then I stopped and logic kicked in and I was utterly befuddled. What in the flaming hell did I do that would warrent her actually leaving the room to calm down in order to talk to me? ?
The next negative impulse was to feel like a drooling idiot with the IQ of a rodent that somehow I had phenomenally screwed up so badly my manager had to leave the room in order to keep herself from strangling me. Then, again, logic kicked in and I could honestly see no reason for the throbbing veins in her forehead other than she's completely nuts.
She came back again and tried again to convey to me the utter importance (the lives of millions depend on it!??) that I get that list out pronto. It's at this point that I think I just flat out said, 'look, just let me get this done and I will print it out for you' because she had to leave a second time.
The list gets typed, I call some businesses for info, all in all it took another hour to really get it all finished by that time I think perhaps she calmed down because she sat down and said, 'I'm sorry I was rude' and I said something like it's alright just let me get this typed. Then for the rest of the time she was completely normal.
Strange things are happening in the gallery.
The only logical reason I can think for a reaction like this was if I set fire to the gallery or I kicked her puppy.
I have never quite seen anything like this in my life of dealing with odd people. She certainly gives a new meaning to 'overreact' and for some reason I seem to set her off (maybe it's my handwriting). There is certainly some internal problem going on as she's also mentioned having an ulcer (really, REALLY high strung). But on the other hand it certainly gives me something to write about. I think my Death Glare is coming along nicely, she actually apologized this time. Indeed excellent experiences in preparing for 'real' life.