Work. A vile, but necessary evil.

Having read Manuel's post about how he deals-quite admirably-with the people who frequent his restaurant, I am filled with a mild awe. I don't now how he does it. I don't know how anyone does it-work with people that is. I couldn't do it. I'd get fired. Probably very rapidly indeed. Or arrested. Hummm, yes that seems more likely.
How do people do it? It can't just be me? Can it? Have any of you just upped and left a job because you simply couldn't carry on without throttling someone or pitching them out a third floor window? I once vomited going to work in a place I hated, not just once actually. And in another I left mid way through my third day having told my short lived boss to shove his job up his rancid hole, then I walked two miles home and went to bed for the day.

I am self employed, and -apart for the normal fear of failure that comes with self-employment - I rather like my job for great tracts of the year. So bearing that in mind I feel rather churlish about bitching, churlish but not churlish enough to not go right ahead and bitch. Once or twice a year I have got to put on my petticoats and best hat and go out and drum up more business. I am forced to bridle up and rein in my firm belief that most people are idiots and I don't like talking to them, or worse, have them talking AT me. I must shut my yap, nod a lot and deal with agencies and all manner of folk, who are fickle and highly strung and give me the heaving jeebies.

I am further pitched in to deep gloom by the knowledge that this month is one of those times.

My appointment book is quite full over the next few weeks, full of people I must speak with in a work capacity. Because I don't do this sort of thing very often, indeed I can go months without ever having to dress up, tone down, cease eye rolling, and stop snorting in mild amusement, I don't expect any of you to have an sympathy. Indeed I am not looking for any. Just grumbling.

I could never do PR, I could never work in the service industry. If I was a guard I would be Captain Dudley Smith and I would wear black gloves, a lot.
Mornings like this, when the sun don't shine and the very first email of the day is a frothy two lines that already has the bubbles of misanthropic bile popping with ease are the very worst.
And I am gloomy. I suspect this is day is going to be full of pointless frothy emails. Emails I must answer with a degree of civility. And worse than anything, it appears I must spend time on the PHONE today. And I hate phones. Then I must have a meeting this afternoon, and I hate meetings.
So can I just say, to all of you who work with folk on a daily basis, who deal with the public, who must have meetings, share space and offices and answer phones and tolerate managers and idiotic bosses and lazy staff and people who refuse to get back to you when they say the will thus causing you to yell at your entirely blameless dApple computer, can I just say, I, Fatmammycat, salute you all.

Working with other folk, I"m so AGAINST IT I could weep!