I have no idea how to deal with some things. All week people call me with no idea what they're about, in my law business. Or to lie intentionally, make threats, make offers, all that kind of stuff. But that's part of the gig, navigating all that stuff. There's a certain amount of confusion and stress that comes with working as a civil litigation attorney - although the way I do it the litigation part is highly minimized. I try to solve problems efficiently. Maybe that's part of it, I like things to be efficient, to know what we're talking about, to know where we're headed. That takes some context.
So I get a lot of communications. I have perhaps a dozen things in the shop and 20 to 30 clients in the law office. For a hermit living and working in the middle of nowhere that feels like a good deal of people and things to track.
So today is / was actually a day off. Mostly. I still have to answer the phone. Could be family, could be crucial development, could be a law client off her meds.
I answered the phone. Got up from drinking coffee and reading. A fellow whose voice I recognized asked whether his mandolin had arrived. He didn't introduce himself, but so be it. I wandered all the way from by the little wood stove, down the hall, through the kitchen, and into the shop area. Then he couldn't tell me the brand of his mandolin. Just that it was brown. Very unusual for me, I hung up. Seemed completely unreasonable to drag me out of my comfort zone on a Sunday morning and not even know what you're calling about. I eventually called him back and informed him he needed to tell me who he was and what brand of instrument he was calling about when he called. This devolved again into some kind of magic I was joking we talked before conversation. I hung up again.
Eventually Becky got things sorted.
I never hang up on anyone, ever. Somehow this was just showing up as completely abusive and unreasonable to me. I'm not sure whether it was context or what. A mix of "who calls me about a mandolin on Sunday morning?" and "Who doesn't know what kind of mandolin they sent me?" and "How am I supposed to remember every detail about every case mandolin story history I was born in a log cabin?"
So I'm not sure whether I'm going nuts or what. Or whether I'm reasonable. I work very hard to deal with people who don't know what they're about. Maybe I just have a different standard for people who send me physical things. Probably a reason I really prefer the musical instrument work sometimes. I'm starting to calm down. But it's taking almost an hour.
Is this unusual? What is going on? I understand in retrospect that this was a "joking" conversation from one end, which is OK during the work week, and a "you have to be some kind of #######" conversation from the other end. Just a disconnect.
So what do I do? I don't know. I expect the mandolin (which isn't here) will get here eventually. I am not in real civilization, so it sometimes takes extra time for such things to arrive. I expect it will be a mandolin that is workable and I'll send it off. I don't want people to think I'm difficult to work with. I'm not. I am a bit autistic and detail oriented. The telephone isn't something that came naturally to me. I work extremely hard to try to get through to what people want. I suppose this was just over some magic line I didn't know was there and hit the non-linear penalty function.
Anyway, sorry for the rant. The buck always stops here and I skate on the edge of overwhelm routinely. If the gentleman who called drops by this rant, sorry about that. I just kind of expect folks to respond with "Eastman" or "Kentucky" rather than "brown" when asked what mandolin they sent.
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