I am having a . . . very . . . bad . . . day.
Most of it, I will not be blogging about because it's personal family shit.
This, however, was the cherry on the steaming pile that was my Thursday. In my everyday job, I work with crazy people. No, not attorneys, not the people who are at the ends of their ropes and really hoping that someone will help them, but genuine the-government-is-listening-to-my-thoughts-everyone-is-out-to-get-me-I'm-the-King-of-England-and-Elvis-is-my-cousin-bat-shit-crazy people.
I treat them politely. I try to figure out what their problems are (to the extent that they have actual problems that can be remedied) and refer them to the proper agencies. Above all, I try to treat them as I would want to be treated if I were having some sort of problem.
Today I received an e-mail from one of the women I tried to help last year. Strike that . . . I should have said I received a threatening, vulgarity-laced e-mail from one of them. I'm not going to go into details about her legal problem, but the fact that she was unable to get help from any of the legal service providers or law firms to which I referred her is apparently my fault. I'm sure it has nothing to do with her being obviously mentally disturbed.
This woman already managed to bluff her way past security at my building (hence our first meeting), so I'm a little concerned.
I wonder if Barnes & Noble is hiring.
Jeez, I need a drink.