The Tears of a Monday

Yesterday was rough. Not right at first. When we woke up yesterday, there had been rest, the temps in the house were cool and the covers and cat were easily keeping us tucked in bed. The coffee was delicious and while the talking heads were telling us about this shut down in Washington was looming, I was actually looking forward to going into my office with a clear head, a plan of attack and knowing that it would be a long day, two pairs of shoes.

60 minutes in that whole feeling of resolve fell apart.

I’ve got a woman who just decided to set fires all over the state. I spent the whole day putting them out. She’s flat out lying at this point. She lied straight to my voice when I called her. In fact, yesterday, I was in pretty much constant contact with her via email and phone yet I kept getting messages from other women in the organization, “I just got off the phone with Schmickie Schmeck, she’s really upset because you told her there would be a troop for her daughter and she’s already paid all of this money…”

Now folks, we all know that managing expectations is the best way to circumvent conflict. And from the beginning I was honest with this woman. We do NOT have a troop at Wilson. I DO have someone in place to start one which is usually the most difficult part. I did a recruitment night there and ONE girl and her mom showed up. ONE. There is blame to place, and I take 99% of it. This is a learning curve. I will do things differently next year for sure. But I never once promised that woman a troop.

What I said was “it’s my GOAL, and I am DETERMINED to put one there. I want to offer the girls of Wilson this experience. NO you are not required to purchase the full uniform at this event. We are still a month and a half out before the GS year begins, I haven’t made a troop yet, so it’s YOUR CHOICE to pay for the uniform and things.”

What she heard, and what she’s spreading all over town is, “Misti Pryor PROMISED that there would be a troop at Wilson. NO one will call me back. She won’t answer my questions. I’ve paid 75 dollars for all of this stuff and I want my money back. NO one at Girl Scouts will let my daughter be in a troop. She’s missing out. My neighbors kid has already had three meetings. I told her I would consider other troops in the town where we live. ”

She got connected to my CEO yesterday. AFTER I had emailed with her three times. She lied to me when I called her and said that conversation was last week so my phone must have just been messing up, or my email or something.

At the recruitment event, the mother who has Twin Daisyaged girls who was turned away from a meeting last week with the words, “we don’t have room for you, you can’t stay here” and left with two crying children, found a troop. Thank God.

We formed a new Daisy troop as well, even though the mothers arrived pissed off because they had phone calls that had not been returned by the troop organizer for a month, and my intern told them the wrong address of the event so by the time they got to ours it was the second stop for them.

The Treasurer of the CST stomped in, handed over all of the financial paperwork and left. She quit with a passive aggressive email flounce a few weeks ago because she didn’t like the way a vote was going. Hateful mean-girl. She’s part of the troop that rejected the twin Daisy girls.

The CEO was at the event last night, and I found out that my whole intern/supervisor thing I’ve been doing has just gone to crap. She’s been at the office in OKC. I’ve sent her tasks and work and talk to her daily, and knowing she’s in the office with Shannon and others that she was asking and collaborating with them on these tasks.

Not so. Yesterday I had a phone call from Product Sales … “Who exactly is supervising this girl?” . . . ummm I am allegedly. Then last night I found out that a big project had NOT in fact, been OK’d by the CEO. It’s a disaster. I’m pulling the reigns and she’s going to have to come to office in Norman, or we’re going to have to re-evaluate what to do with her. I don’t actually have a need for her until the Spring, and we don’t want to pay her to check email. She’s right out of high school. So her skill set in the professional world is nil. I honestly don’t want to fail the test that this clearly is, but I don’t have any damn time to deal with someone else trying to work, I’m doing well just to keep my own office from going down in flames.

Needless to say, that when I left the event last night, I cried all the way to my office. I dropped off the car, sent a few emails and did some troop organizing and got ready for today. By the time I got home sometime after 9:30pm, I was met with a hug at the door, and a little jelly jar of wine.

Today however, I wake up and it is October. One of my most favorite months. Audra has a birthday, Talaura does too. Delbert and Vernon have their first anniversary this weekend. I see family again this month, and some awesome live music starting this week with The Lumineers.

Tuesday is already better.

Simply because it isn’t Monday.

 

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4 Responses to The Tears of a Monday

  1. Kizz says:

    Monday was a day for the crazy folks to come out, for sure. Maybe they hadn’t met their quota for September so it was a long day for them. My anti-photo lady was in the park at 6:30am looming and following me until my awesome old lady friend said something too loud and scared her. These nutbars have to move away from us. We don’t need crazy, we’re all full up.

  2. suz kelley says:

    My old granny used to say you can lock out a thief but you can’t stop a liar. I hate it when people do stuff like that Im so sorry you have to deal with that. I always just try to tell myself that they must have the worst life to go around making other people that miserable. Throw her in the nut jar and put a lid on it MistiKae cause the suns a shinin, the leaves are a changin and this too shall pass girlfriend…

  3. Dion says:

    I won’t even bother you with all my troubles right now, but know that I love you and this too shall pass. XOXO

  4. Pingback: 12 Months of Ridiculous | Misti Ridiculous

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