Few things, perhaps nothing, upsets me more than having my honesty questioned. I know this is a essential pride thing, and therefore something, as a Christian, I must fight to overcome, but on the few occasions that this has occurred, the emotional repercussions have reached down to my core and made me physically shake. And the circumstances in which such profound insults have been lodged have heretofore been so minor, and yet, deep in my heart, I have wanted the insulters--and by extension, all they know and love--to die, horribly, for being so patently unjust. This is probably the reason that God didn't put me in positions of power when I was younger, because I would not have reacted at all gracefully to unwarranted personal attacks. Folks without OCD don't understand this reaction at all--"So what if that person said that--it's not true, so get over it," a dear friend told me, when I was almost beside myself after getting my first negative feedback on eBay last week (in a small amount of emotional growth, on this occasion I didn't want to draw and quarter the commenter and his extended family, just have him alone permanently banned from the auction site). Perfection-minded people process such unwarranted defilements of their records differently from other personalities. While natural events don't bother me so much--hey, "I got a flat tire", or "The power's gone out", or "I'm bleeding", I can deal with unruffled--other people peeing on that that sacred piece of my psychological turf (that I'm truthful) still upends my emotional applecart. Though, I guess I should be grateful that at least now, at this point in my life, a few pieces of fruit are staying aboard, and more or less edible. Mmm, pie.
One external unexpectedness that I still don't take well to is the reception of a letter from a department of taxation (federal, state or local), saying that I failed to file this or that important form. Gack. Total helplessness. Oftentimes, despite "delivery confirmation" or other chits from the Post Office, the tax people claim not to have received what you sent them, and without a cancelled check, you are sunk. Sometimes, a cancelled check simply isn't available, as when you filed a form for a quarter that didn't have any payment due. I think, after many tears, two online chat sessions and one frantic telephone call, that this latest snafu has been un-"fued", but I won't believe it until I get printed confirmation in the mail from the tax office, which they told me can take eight weeks. In the meantime, my stomach is tied into knots, and I have to prepare for THE job interview. In a few minutes, I'm going to pull on some sweats and go to the gym, work off my angst, settle my head (I have done what I can, the Almighty is in charge), and then return to do what I can to learn as much as possible to anticipate and respond to the search committee's pointed questions about my qualifications.