Egg Shell Emotions

My emotions are so fragile that when someone is angry at me it’s like an egg being cracked open, the shell crushed on the side of the bowl, the viscous interior slowly oozing onto the counter. Really, I’d doing just fine, top of the world, and a button is pushed like I’m falling down an elevator shaft. It takes me hours to climb back up near the place where I was earlier.

Skin like a rhino, heart like a dove is the axiom I should repeat to myself whenever I answer the phone, talk with a customer, or confront a staff member. I should imagine a brick wall surrounding me, with nothing able to get through.

When Mrs. Cohenour became so angry at me, it doubled my error rate. At first I couldn’t hear her, as often as she was asked to speak up. When we looked for the two books she bought seven weeks ago that were supposed to still be on the shelf, there was nothing. But she on her car phone kept insisting they had to be there. Plus she wanted another copy of one. Upset that we didn’t have a record of her purchases, which we had that showed her last purchase was the end of May, four months ago. I have a charge here for something I bought at Warwicks and I know it has to have been the books that should still be on the shelf. I’m sorry I did the best I could. I’ve asked Adrian to call you Monday to sort this out for you. Really, she sounded like she was drunk or extremely distracted, calling us on her car mobile while driving. When she finally got to a phone where I could actually hear her, I had already written the note and put it on Adrian’s desk. I kept telling her we were unable to help her and that Adrian will call her on Monday, even after she asked for Camilla, who was just there for a few minutes, but bravely took the call for me. Then she asked for Barbara, who was on a break, and it will have to wait until Monday. I am really sorry. I’ve done the best I can. Well then give Adrian another number where she can reach me on Monday. I’m sorry was that 672-7111? Without answering she hung up. So I was left with a number that may not be right, for a manager who will be unhappy to face this on a Monday morning, about an issue that stumped and confused me, for some books that don’t exist, for a customer who didn’t say goodbye, for a job that at that moment I would have walked out and never come back. It was totally “mind-fuck” and it made me feel inadequate, powerless, unable to think clearly. So I’m not looking forward to work to Monday, which is always hard enough as it is because most everyone is in a foul mood to start with, and then anything to exacerbate those feelings, looking for a dog to kick, makes the day hell on earth.

Jim, you need to let go of that whole experience and focus on what you are doing right now, in your bedroom, with two more hours before you have to go to work. Go in Monday and don’t defend yourself, because you explained yourself enough in the note to Adrian. Just apologize if you’re confronted. The crowd around you yelling at you about what you should, could, must do in this situation are just there to torment you.

I felt

Why would a woman be so insistent like that? I know we live in a culture that is demanding, wanting it now, and not waiting two days. Why couldn’t she just have said, okay, I’ll talk with Adrian.