I'm not your consultant

I'll admit it, I on occasion do some really stupid things. And I'm a smart girl. So, I'm able to overlook some things that very intelligent people do on account of all sorts of things like:

Stress
A general inability to understand simple concepts without making them hard
Sleep deprivation
Or just generally not wanting to do them

For example:

I am a fully grown, independent, American woman.

And I HATE getting my car maintenanced. (It's a word, now, y'all. Hush.) I hate taking it to get an oil change and tire rotation because it always happens when I'm actually out doing things that require me to look cute, so the chauvinistic Y chromosome behind the counter thinks that I'm just a pretty face (I say this with zero little narcissism) and that I don't know shit about cars besides "They go and they stop."

Which, in a sense, is true. I also know that they need gas in them to go and stop. See? Winning.

But my father did instill in me the importance of regular oil changes, tire rotations, and making sure the tire pressure is adequate. Because no one wants a blow out on the highway and I'm not nearly calm enough to handle that gracefully. So, I bite the bullet every 5,000 miles when my cute little Scion's light goes on and it tells me obnoxiously every day that Maintenance is Required.

Last time, this cost me $175. Because I needed a new tire and Firestone claims I have "low profile" tires, which translates to "expensive," and no, ma'am, we don't have any tires cheaper than $123. Then he called me again while at a baby shower to tell me that my alignment is off and "MUST be fixed today" and that this will cost another $180 for lifetime adjustments.

Well, Mr Firestone dipshit man, I just started a new job, and I haven't been paid in going on 3 weeks, plus I don't feel like charging $400 to my credit card today, so you can take your alignment and shove it up your happy manipulative ass.

Which actually sounded more like "I'll just take what we've previously discussed today. When can I pick it up?" (Matt got to listen to the explicit diatribe. Lucky man.)


There is a point to this blog post.


After quitting my last job (AKA "The most boring job ever with the coordinator from hell"), I thought I was done there. That I wouldn't have to go back and deal with them again. Once I was in new job, I actually realized how horribly unorganized they were, and I thank science every day that I got out when I did and got in to where I am. It really does make such a big difference when you are happy with your job. I come home happy every day. (Except Friday this week, because I sat on a highway entrance ramp for an hour. Traffic makes me exceptionally bitchy. EXCEPTIONALLY BITCHY.)

I was wrong about being done with old job, and now I'm apparently a free consultant. Which mostly pisses me off, because I only work for free at the zoo. And even then, I get cool perks. Like free shirts, the ability to cuddle the animals (after special training I sort of need to get 16.5 more hours to qualify for), free wine and food, and other cool shit. Docenting is awesome.

Anyways, I nicely agreed to attend a meeting with my old boss a week after I left so I could explain to her how I did things while I worked there. Since she was a scheduling nightmare and thinks I have nothing else to do (I'm *not* working another job 40+ hours a week, trying to workout more, doing research on 8,000 papers for a scientific book with an old professor, and then cooking dinner and keeping the apartment clean because Matt is just as busy as I am), I sent her a three page document outlining how I did all the major aspects of my job.

I left out the "Watching the live coverage of the Casey Anthony Trial on cnn.com continuously" part.

While she appreciated this document, she still wanted to meet with me, so I ended up having to go to downtown San Antonio at 5:30 in the afternoon on a weekday, and was thus, pissed. The meeting lasted 45 minutes, and then I had to rush to a dance class. Basically all I did there was fold the contracts open to the budget sheet and place them in a folder that they were already in.

This woman is a MEDICAL DOCTOR.

She writes prescriptions. Writes treatment plans. Is a Chief of Staff.

And she can't figure out contracts and budgets.

I, initially, attributed this to the whole "out of her realm" thing, and tried to be nice about it.

Then she called me yesterday. SATURDAY! While I'm vacuuming, doing laundry, and taking  pictures of our abode. Instead of asking me her questions at that time, she scheduled a phone call for today around 1. Seriously, woman. This is ridiculous.

She's confused about the bills. (Honestly. That was her reasoning.) And my initial thought was, "you pay them. They have a dollar amount on them, and you write a check, and mail it. They'll send you another one in 3 weeks. Sucks, doesn't it?"

I'm a sucker though, and my dad also instilled in me the "not burning bridges" thing, and in my industry once you're hated, you're hated forever. So I agreed.

But now I wish I hadn't.