It’s Monday. It’s really Monday. So the Complaint Department is open for business again. Here. Now. And then I have to get on with sorting out the umpteen messes of the past few hours and the weekend. How about you?
Kids, by any other name, would smell as sweet
Okay. Maybe it’s roses. Maybe it’s all water under the bridge. Maybe it’s worn roses and dirty water under the bridge and nothing smells sweet. Certainly not at the moment, and not with my teenager, and not with anything else in my life. And yes – I’m in a cranky mood. So there. Aren’t plenty of us who are juggling everything cranky? Don’t we have a right be? Do we really need a reason?
Screw that. I say let’s hear it for the cantankerous mother who pours her vitriol onto the virtual page rather than her kids, whatever the reason (and guaranteed, there are plenty).
So yesterday, my kid had to go out to get roses. For an elaborate “something” he was concocting for the girl he already asked to prom, who wanted him to re-ask in a more creative way. (Huh?? I think if a teen boy asks politely and she says yes, give the guy a break!)
Spray roses. Three types. Least expensive roses to work with. Now in my kitchen, on the crowded counter, removed from the fridge. Will they still be good tomorrow? Who knows, but I’m pissed. At my kid. And at this damn girl – whoever she is, and her friends (who said “he should’ve asked better”). Then there’s the foam core and special pens needed from another store, and some sort of ongoing project in process that may or may not come to fruition. Using all of this. And who picks up the tab? You guessed it.
Last evening he was working on the “something” which he never finished, along with homework due today. (I was informed in the car this morning.) Shall we say it’s time for another discussion on Time Management?
Automated phone systems
Yes! Ding ding ding! We have a recurring theme! The ever popular phone drama!
Hello, Customer Service? You are slowly driving the American population insane with your convoluted automated systems. You’re killing off brain cells faster than a fifth of Jack Daniels. Dare I mention this morning’s adventure in customer care?
- 20 minutes to get nowhere (again) with my cable company (a live person)
- the local number furnished last week – doesn’t work
- we still have the wrong cable boxes (and no TV reception)
- the vodka IV delivery service number is busy
- Bank’s automated system – an infinite loop then lost on hold (bye-bye, Monday morning)
- DROVE to the bank for the information I need for taxes
- Census Bureau automated service – 20 minute loop (eventual human being, who informed me I was one of the “lucky randomly chosen” who gets to do two types of questionnaires – the long one I already did the end of last year, and another – to be remailed)
Bills, teens, and toilet paper
I got to enjoy the pleasures of bill paying this morning. The minimum payments are rising like my blood pressure. And speaking of a rising tide, there is my teen – a great kid whom I love, but he’s driving me crazy. There, I said it. And I know that’s his job. And it’s more than spray roses and prom planning. It’s insufficient communication, procrastination, and the hand always out for a few more dollars. Respectfully and with regret, but no less palm up, and waiting. And the printing press for my twenties is running out of ink.
Then there was the house full of teens Saturday. With no warning. A chemistry-biology project. And of course, dirty socks and papers strewn about, and no toilet paper in the gross “boy bathroom” (there were girls here).
Are mothers the only ones who realize that the toilet paper rolls can be transported from where they are dropped after shopping to their place of final destination?
As for everything else – I can’t possibly enumerate. Let’s just say – priorities need to be reassessed. It’s going to get very unpleasant around here, very fast.
Job leads, follow up, professionalism
In the past 4 weeks, I’ve had 4 job leads. Astonishing. One or two were possibly projects leading to “regular employment.” Two were projects. Of the four, one was a scam (best I can tell), the second involved a position which was then put on hold (relative to filling it). The third – a project I worked hard to research, attended a meeting, followed up with phone calls and short proposal – nada. No response. Dead end. I plan one more phone call because I’m pissed. I put eight hours and a lot of physical energy into dealing with that prospect in a professional manner.
I deserve to be dealt with – yes or no – in an equally professional manner. We all do.
As for the fourth? Just last week, the end of the week. Again, I did my due diligence by checking out the company and the individual. Legitimate. We emailed. Then I researched, emailed, we set a phone meeting, for which I prepped and then called. No answer. Several hours later (early evening), a phone message with an apology and a “let’s try again.”
Are there valid reasons the gentleman was not available? I’m sure. But it doesn’t change the fact that this seems to have become the norm in all manner of professional interactions. Blowing people off. Time is money. And you know what? I know what I’m worth. And I’m damn valuable in the workplace. I have skills and experience to contribute, and I want the respect of the paycheck, as well as the professionalism of simple follow-up, and keeping one’s word.
I am angry.
I am very angry. At hundreds of wasted hours over the past year – dealing on good faith, and not receiving the same in kind.
Sure, there’s more. But that’s enough.
All I know is this
There are good days and bad days for all of us. We have worries. Big ones and little ones. We have complaints. We need to vent, somewhere. I’m doing so here.
As for happiness? Of course I want to be happy. I want my children happy. But I’m weary of reading about the next quick fix or the latest route to being present. So I guess that’s another complaint, that will possibly piss a few of you off. For that I am sorry, but I am not sorry for saying what I think. HERE, I wish to speak my mind. HERE, I wish to be honest. I worry for my kids, for their health, for my own. I worry for their future. I struggle with a financial snowball that worsens due to a support situation I cannot fathom, and none of us chose. I recognize the good moments, and I savor them. But there are few.
Someone asked me recently about my dreams, about what I had planned for the future. I was dumbstruck, and have not responded. Not because I don’t have dreams – I have plenty – but I don’t dare to think about them. Nor the future. Not right now. Every day is a Monday. A hard Monday. And I have more phone calls to make, because I have to keep going. I have to keep trying. That’s as much as I know, today.