Most of my employment experience has been centered around customer service. In person, on the phone, whatever. I’m actually very good at it; that and technical writing, believe it or not. Which goes to show that just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you like it.
I sent out two emails today inquiring about price and availability of some fish and snails I want for my tank. Here are the responses I got:
Big difference in those gee’s. I’m sure you can guess where I’ll go to shop. Like that guy couldn’t have said that he’d get back to me on Wednesday, rather than make it my responsibility to get back with him? Come on, people.
I got a cross stitch done that took SO MUCH LONGER THAN I EXPECTED because I’m an idiot and get panicky and then screw up. I’ve also been searching for ‘just the right stuff’ to put into a care package that’s being sent to Singapore and I’m stressing out about that because I’m an idiot. Oh, a fun thing? Yes, let’s do this fun thing! AND FREAK OUT ABOUT IT.
Magnus is the cutest about trying to get fish. He’s terrible at it, mind you, and can’t even touch the glass where the fish actually are.