So mad it hurts.

Having worked at companies with no more than ten employees for most of my adult life, I walked into my current job completely unprepared for the clash of personalities, communication styles, attitudes and posturing. I was dealt a stomach-punch this morning, in the form of an annoying client’s continued unhappiness with my work. On the phone, discussing a recent draft, the client told me that I “don’t possess the brain capacity” to understand his product, and therefore couldn’t be “expected to write well.”

Right, ok, well, how about FUCK YOU? How about I show you my resume? My CV? How about I scratch your car with my PHI BETA KAPPA KEY you self-important piece of trash?

I would beat that man over the head with one of my MANY PUBLISHED WORKS if he happened to be cowering in front of me right now.

But the thing is, it doesn’t matter. He wins. He can say whatever the hell he wants, because he’s the client, and he’s RIGHT.

And as hard as it is, I have to sit here and take it. I have to accept the fact that whatever the reason – my inability to understand the concept or his just being a jackass – I’ve failed. I can’t do the work correctly.

And it sucks and I want to quit and run from here to Park City along the ridges I can see out my office window. I want to walk away right now and, I don’t know, wait tables for the winter so I can ski everyday.

These are the times when, hands shaking and eyes welling up, I regret having left the outdoor industry. It’s far from perfect and some of the people are hard to work with, but at least there I understand the products well enough to write about them; at least there I’m well regarded, respected. Not called “mentally obtuse.”