Steve Allen's book Dumbth devotes a lot of time to hours* he's wasted in conversation via telephone with people who just don't get it and never will.
I had such a conversation today.
Our office is participating in a program whereby employees are screened for common health conditions that can potentially raise insurance rates. I am not here to go into the pros and cons of this plan -- I've heard enough grumbling from co-workers on the subject to last a lifetime.
Unfortunately, I'm in the position of coordinating this project, which will take place in late January. Yesterday I retrieved a phone message from a young lady whose speech was full of hiccups and "up-talk" -- you know, when every statement is phrased as a question. "My name is Jennifer Smith? I'm calling to set up your screening?"
Click Here to Read More..
Showing posts with label frustration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frustration. Show all posts
Friday, December 10, 2010
Thursday, June 05, 2008
A Little Gripe
Just a little one ...
I'm in this group that's doing a play -- not a theatre group, 'cause that's not what what we are, but just a group of people that will be putting on 2 plays later this month for educational purposes. We've been working on this for about 3 months now.
I think the director was skeptical that I'd be any good at this. She didn't invite me, someone else did, so sensing her doubts, I worked very hard and enthusiastically to put them to rest. So far, I've done really well and she's given me good feedback. Both my parts are pretty small, and reading the script, I've been able to fine-tune a few lines and gestures, and I think she's been impressed with my innovations.
Well, last night we rehearsed for the first time in awhile. She was not critical, but the other leader of the group, who first invited me to do this, was in a snarky mood because a lot of people were doing other things in the building and kind of straggled in late, and our start was delayed. So I guess he was gunning for everybody, but when he threw a criticism at me, it hurt. The reason: I have this one particular line that needs to be read a certain way -- and I KNOW it has to be read a certain way. In fact, my script has the notation to throw a double-entendre tone into the line. It's MY notation and I've been reading it that way right from the get-go. However, the line comes immediately after a moment where there's going to be a loud audience reaction. I've never gotten any kind of feedback on how to time this line. If I wait for things to settle down, the person next to me is "nudging" me as though she thinks I've forgotten the line; I found myself mouthing "I know, I know," out the corner of my mouth the first time she did that. So last night, by the time I actually got to say the line, it was all I could do just to get the damn words out of my mouth, and all the inflection had basically been left in the dust. And what do you think they zero in on? "Oh, you have to put a lot more 'umph' into that line -- you can't just say the words because it's obvious that there's a double meaning there," yadda yadda yadda.
It's a measure of my new-found maturity that I didn't stamp my foot and say "Haven't you been listening all this time? I was the one who injected the tone into it in the first place and I've never once heard a word of approval from you about it!!! Grrrr!"
But I didn't. I merely said that I did have it highlighted -- and finally they gave me some support in how and when to come in with the line so it wouldn't get drowned out by the audience.
It just irritated me. Or I should say, it irritated my insecure little ego.... Click Here to Read More..
I'm in this group that's doing a play -- not a theatre group, 'cause that's not what what we are, but just a group of people that will be putting on 2 plays later this month for educational purposes. We've been working on this for about 3 months now.
I think the director was skeptical that I'd be any good at this. She didn't invite me, someone else did, so sensing her doubts, I worked very hard and enthusiastically to put them to rest. So far, I've done really well and she's given me good feedback. Both my parts are pretty small, and reading the script, I've been able to fine-tune a few lines and gestures, and I think she's been impressed with my innovations.
Well, last night we rehearsed for the first time in awhile. She was not critical, but the other leader of the group, who first invited me to do this, was in a snarky mood because a lot of people were doing other things in the building and kind of straggled in late, and our start was delayed. So I guess he was gunning for everybody, but when he threw a criticism at me, it hurt. The reason: I have this one particular line that needs to be read a certain way -- and I KNOW it has to be read a certain way. In fact, my script has the notation to throw a double-entendre tone into the line. It's MY notation and I've been reading it that way right from the get-go. However, the line comes immediately after a moment where there's going to be a loud audience reaction. I've never gotten any kind of feedback on how to time this line. If I wait for things to settle down, the person next to me is "nudging" me as though she thinks I've forgotten the line; I found myself mouthing "I know, I know," out the corner of my mouth the first time she did that. So last night, by the time I actually got to say the line, it was all I could do just to get the damn words out of my mouth, and all the inflection had basically been left in the dust. And what do you think they zero in on? "Oh, you have to put a lot more 'umph' into that line -- you can't just say the words because it's obvious that there's a double meaning there," yadda yadda yadda.
It's a measure of my new-found maturity that I didn't stamp my foot and say "Haven't you been listening all this time? I was the one who injected the tone into it in the first place and I've never once heard a word of approval from you about it!!! Grrrr!"
But I didn't. I merely said that I did have it highlighted -- and finally they gave me some support in how and when to come in with the line so it wouldn't get drowned out by the audience.
It just irritated me. Or I should say, it irritated my insecure little ego.... Click Here to Read More..
Thursday, April 10, 2008
I can bitch, I can bitch, oh, the BITCH is back!!!
OK, in the last few weeks I've bitched about politics & religion, but who doesn't. I've ranted -- not the same thing. I've pondered and ruminated and reported on minute developments in my thrilling life.
Yawn.
But today, finally, I get to BITCH about something! Yay!!!
My first husband divorced me for a bunch of reasons, but the main one was my awful temper. Carl knows I have a bad temper, but his mother was a rage-aholic and he has 3 sisters, so crazy women are something he's used to. Thank the ordered universe. Being with a man who takes my mood swings in stride has done a lot to calm me down.
But the temper is still there. It just doesn't feel the need to come out & play as often.
What sets me off? Simple. Pressure and frustration at the same time.
The worst example of this is when it's lunchtime and something prevents me from getting food into myself when I WANT IT.
That hasn't happened lately. Not since probably 2002 or so. Really, I've been goooood.
Today, however, instead of going home for lunch as I generally do, I had a bunch of Arby's coupons, and even had one clipped most of the way out, just hanging by a corner so I'll be able to detach it quickly and hand it to the cashier. I was hungry, and I was READY TO EAT.
Went to the car. Looked at The Tire. I have a slow leak that necessitates putting air into the tire about once a week. I did not want today to be one of those days.
Because I was HUNGRY.
Notice, there's a GR in the word "hungry."
...but the tire was just a little too low to chance the secondary highway that leads to the Big Cowboy Hat.
Okie-dokey, no problemo, since there's a gas station just down the road from work.
Volly goes up to the window and hands the guy behind the counter a dollar, to get quarters to put into the air compressor.
Someone in the Reagan administration decided it was okay to charge people for air; until then it was free.
GR. But I've accepted this sorry fact. And when I find a machine that charges 50 cents instead of 75 I feel like I've accomplished something.
Anyway. The guy behind the counter starts whining that he's only got 6 quarters in his drawer and he won't get to the bank until 3pm.
And this is my problem, becauuuuuuse????
I wished the little hemorrhoid a good day (no, not really) and informed him that I'd be going to another "convenience" store if I could make it there on my flat tire.
I hope he worried about me all day and it made him have a stroke.
Unfortunately, the store didn't have the kind of door you could slam. I love to slam doors.
Fortunately, my car has a nice, slammable door, and I hope he felt the floor shaking under his feet all the way inside the store. Yeahhh.
I had to make a U-turn, and about the only good part of this story is that both lanes were clear at that instant. That was rare.
Went to the next "convenience store" and parked next to the air compressor. Went inside and found approximately 40,000 people standing in line. They were buying beer (at 12 noon on a Thursday!), buying cigarettes, buying lottery tickets and flirting with the cashiers. I saw one guy who looked like he was wearing a dress.
I got on line and waited, and waited, and waited. Got to the front of the line, handed the cashier my dollar, opened my mouth to ask for quarters and
The (insert derogatory term of your choice, she knows who she is) walked away to talk to someone else!
So I waited some more.
She came back, mumbled an apology, gave me my quarters, and I put air in my tire. By the time I was done chasing my tail, lunch was half over, so forget about Arby's. I had a container of microwavable Campbell's soup in my desk drawer at work, and that's what and where lunch was.
Oh, another amazing piece of good luck: I managed NOT to spill soup on my clothing. Will wonders never cease.
If anything stands between me and Arby's tomorrow, I suggest you tune into "20/20."
Oh, and
GR.
Click Here to Read More..
Yawn.
But today, finally, I get to BITCH about something! Yay!!!
My first husband divorced me for a bunch of reasons, but the main one was my awful temper. Carl knows I have a bad temper, but his mother was a rage-aholic and he has 3 sisters, so crazy women are something he's used to. Thank the ordered universe. Being with a man who takes my mood swings in stride has done a lot to calm me down.
But the temper is still there. It just doesn't feel the need to come out & play as often.
What sets me off? Simple. Pressure and frustration at the same time.
The worst example of this is when it's lunchtime and something prevents me from getting food into myself when I WANT IT.
That hasn't happened lately. Not since probably 2002 or so. Really, I've been goooood.
Today, however, instead of going home for lunch as I generally do, I had a bunch of Arby's coupons, and even had one clipped most of the way out, just hanging by a corner so I'll be able to detach it quickly and hand it to the cashier. I was hungry, and I was READY TO EAT.
Went to the car. Looked at The Tire. I have a slow leak that necessitates putting air into the tire about once a week. I did not want today to be one of those days.
Because I was HUNGRY.
Notice, there's a GR in the word "hungry."
...but the tire was just a little too low to chance the secondary highway that leads to the Big Cowboy Hat.
Okie-dokey, no problemo, since there's a gas station just down the road from work.
Volly goes up to the window and hands the guy behind the counter a dollar, to get quarters to put into the air compressor.
Someone in the Reagan administration decided it was okay to charge people for air; until then it was free.
GR. But I've accepted this sorry fact. And when I find a machine that charges 50 cents instead of 75 I feel like I've accomplished something.
Anyway. The guy behind the counter starts whining that he's only got 6 quarters in his drawer and he won't get to the bank until 3pm.
And this is my problem, becauuuuuuse????
I wished the little hemorrhoid a good day (no, not really) and informed him that I'd be going to another "convenience" store if I could make it there on my flat tire.
I hope he worried about me all day and it made him have a stroke.
Unfortunately, the store didn't have the kind of door you could slam. I love to slam doors.
Fortunately, my car has a nice, slammable door, and I hope he felt the floor shaking under his feet all the way inside the store. Yeahhh.
I had to make a U-turn, and about the only good part of this story is that both lanes were clear at that instant. That was rare.
Went to the next "convenience store" and parked next to the air compressor. Went inside and found approximately 40,000 people standing in line. They were buying beer (at 12 noon on a Thursday!), buying cigarettes, buying lottery tickets and flirting with the cashiers. I saw one guy who looked like he was wearing a dress.
I got on line and waited, and waited, and waited. Got to the front of the line, handed the cashier my dollar, opened my mouth to ask for quarters and
The (insert derogatory term of your choice, she knows who she is) walked away to talk to someone else!
So I waited some more.
She came back, mumbled an apology, gave me my quarters, and I put air in my tire. By the time I was done chasing my tail, lunch was half over, so forget about Arby's. I had a container of microwavable Campbell's soup in my desk drawer at work, and that's what and where lunch was.
Oh, another amazing piece of good luck: I managed NOT to spill soup on my clothing. Will wonders never cease.
If anything stands between me and Arby's tomorrow, I suggest you tune into "20/20."
Oh, and
GR.
Click Here to Read More..
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