Please, don’t like me
I had to clean for Really Old Lady today. For some reason, she likes me. She thinks I’m just the greatest thing since sliced cheese. I’m so great, that she has begun to schedule her chiropractor appointments, her doctor appointments and her dental appointments to coincide with the days I come to clean. Instead of chilling out and moving the dust in her condo from one place to another, I’m busy giving ROL a lift all over town.
I do all of her grocery shopping. (I’m struggling to refrain from this subject. Let’s just say that she is very specific about what she wants. Good, right? Except for the items I have never heard of. Oh wait, that’s just about 3/4 of them.)
I take all of her packages to the post office.
I go to the hardware store and pick up the D battery she told me she needed and when I get back, she tells me that I got the wrong one. Turns out she needed a 9 volt battery and she just got confused. Oh, and the battery was for her daughter - it was of utmost importance. If it’s so important, why isn’t the daughter fetching it? Last time I checked, the daughter was perfectly capable.
And that’s when I had this realization. If ROL didn’t like me, if she thought I was a real jerk, she wouldn’t be scheduling her appointments for the afternoons I cleaned for her. She wouldn’t be having me fetch her daughter’s batteries. You know - a lot of the odd, twisted situations that have really put me in a bind in the past have been because the person liked me and thought I was super great. All of it would have been avoided had people hated me.
You think you want people to like you. But the positives of having people hate you are just so strong!
