Yesterday was a day of frustration. A day when the stars all aligned completely and then called the union representative to say they were going on strike. A day when no matter how many times I added the same column of numbers I got a different answer. A day when I wore suede shoes and it rained.
So I had the great pleasure (and by pleasure I mean almost any other word you can think of) of spending the day talking to frustrated people and explaining that yes, I certainly understood that they were frustrated and yes, if I were in their position I would be equally frustrated, but just because the answer I’m giving them isn’t the one they want doesn’t mean I’m lying to them, and oh btw Harry Potter hasn’t lent me his wand so I can just wave it around and fix everything.
With a calm and understanding voice.
42 billion times.
I prefer to solve problems. I prefer to come up with creative ideas.
I prefer root canal to having to give people answers that just frustrate them. So what on earth would make people think I was doing it for fun?