Thursday, May 24, 2012

At My Wits End

Today, I lost my shit.  It was bound to happen.  The combined pressure of obtaining that precious mortgage commitment letter and preparing, and submitting, the coop package, all before the dreaded deadline, has taken its toll.

Sure, the pressure itself is partly to blame but, when they sift through the wreckage that is my psyche, after years of deep psychoanalysis, were they dig deeper into the cause of my snappage, they will find that there is one person responsible for the mayhem, for the chaos, for the death and for the destruction.

And she deserves to be punished.

Karma, that sweet, vengeful bitch, should have my broker, EM, in her sights.  I won't say her real name because, in the event something does befall this total waste of a life, I don't want to be blamed for it. 

But I won't shed one single tear.

For the past few weeks, this woman has been hammering me about the package I put together.  I went over it with her once.  We found some errors or things she wanted me to adjust.  Sure, I can do that.  Why?  Because she, according to my broker, is greatly experienced in coop packages, with this board in particular.

Except, she's an idiot.  Basic accounting lessons were doled out the last time we went over the package.  She didn't understand it.  She's more concerned with things like "can you move this over one space" or "you're missing a comma here" than she is with the numbers because, it seems, she doesn't really understand them.

I do.  It's my fucking job to understand numbers and make them work the way I want them to.

I like to think I'm pretty fucking good at it.  She, however, talks to me like I'm retarded.

And I don't like that.

So, this past Monday she starts telling me she needs the package completed by Thursday because she's leaving  town.  I ask her why that matters, since the commitment goes to the seller on Friday and I have three days after that to submit the package.  She has no answer.


Because there is none.  She's an asshole.  And a dumb one at that.

All week she's been emailing me about things.  Change this, I do.  Change that, I do.

Here's the thing.  Change this leads to nine other adjustments, which I do.  I make them all, I tell her that I've made changes to everything, I email her the new pages and she still emails me about changes I've made that she's not seeing.


She's a fucking moron.

So, this morning, I email her, I tell her that I have everything we've discussed, except for one set of documents that the bank sent to my attorney, instead of me.  I should have it all by Friday but I can get her the other stuff today.

Great, send it over she says.

I call the messenger, put the package together and a short while later the messenger shows up.  He's soaked because it's fucking pouring outside.

As I go to hand him the package, I see an email pop up.  It's from EM.  "On part C, page 2...."

She's got something else she wants to change.

I tell the messenger I'm sorry, I offer him some money, he leaves.

This happens twice.


She's a fucking half wit.

I finally get on the phone with her and tell her that my messenger service has dropped me as a client and I will not make another change unless she sends me an email with all the changes, once.  One email, all the adjustments.  "Review the package, make a list of items that need to be addressed, send me the list, I will make the changes."

That's how it should be done.

She agrees.

She sends me a list.  Same list that I've been working on all day.  Only it isn't in pieces.  Fortunately, it's all been corrected.

I respond to the email, tell her I'm done with everything and she can send the messenger to pick it up.

She says she's sending a messenger to deliver copies of the package I sent her (my copies were screwed up, long story) and the messenger will take the package back with him.

As I am responding to that email, telling her it's in the envelope, ready for pick up, she sends another email with some questions and changes.

And another.

She's been pointing things out that require my looking at the package she has since my copies are whacked and I explain this in an email.  I also explain that, when she says it's ok to send the package, that implies she's done reviewing the thing and, yet, she's still sending me adjustments and amendments.

She's peppering her adjustments with questions like "do you think we should include..."

Do I?  

What the fuck is she asking me for.  She's the one claiming years and years of experience.  I'm relying on her to aid me in the package organization and she's asking me how to do it?

I'm fucking doomed.

I email her.  This one involves me using a lot more fucks than I normally would with anyone I deal with professionally.  It also involves me asking if she's mentally handicapped in any way because the manner in which she has handled this entire process indicates an individual with the IQ of cracked sidewalk.

I explain that I have received over 30 emails every day, from her, for close to two months now and they come in bunches, minutes apart and that this kind of communication indicates lunacy or a complete lack of self-confidence.  I tell her that, if she knew what she was doing, if she was sure of herself, she would be able to sit down, go through the package and then email me with a list of each and every issue, change, amendment, and questions.




of fucking

emails that

should all be combined to save time and energy and to ensure that everything is reviewed, as a whole.  Why?

Because one change results in 4 others and she should know that.  She should also know that sending them in pieces results in me possibly missing one of the changes.  It also means I'm opening the files more frequently and, as a result, the risk of errors is greatly enhanced.





like this

and it makes me fucking crazy.

So, I finally let her have it.  I rip into her and she responds with an apology.  She says she just wants to make sure everything is complete and prepared as the board wants it etc.

Before I can respond, I get 3 more emails.  The first asking if my office is located at 430 or 450.  The second telling me to forget it, she got the address off the application documents (only in there 1000 times) and the third telling me that the messenger will bring the envelope back.

I email her one last time.  I tell her that, along with the address being everywhere on the forms, it's also on every email as it's part of my signature.  I ask her to confirm that the package review is complete.

She confirms and tells me the email signature is hard to read.

I'm buying her a magnifying glass.

Then I'm shoving her in front of a bus.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

well... they do say the memory wanes as one gets older.

fucked if i remember who said it. probably that dizzy bitch.