A little patience.

Back when I worked as a consultant, during each year's review, there was always one piece of advice that I could count on receiving from my supervisors. After they'd get the good news portion out of the way -- you know, that I was doing a really great job and all -- they'd drop the bomb. And they'd say, as kindly as possible, that I needed to have more patience with other people.

"NE," they'd say, "You just need to understand that sometimes people aren't going to get it as fast as you do. You need to be patient and help them to understand."

And suffice it to say that I suck at this. Work is not Sesame Street. With tough deadlines and ever-shifting changes in scope, I never felt that I had the luxury of patience. Certainly I didn't with my own work. So it wasn't easy to make the paradigm shift to try to do it with others. Especially with some of the fucktards that consulting firms manage to hire. They may be able to work a striped shirt, sure, but they sure don't know jack and they are looking at everyone around them to cover up this fact.

But fast forward a few years and I find myself wishing wholeheartedly to be among those striped-shirt fucktards again. And I think that, these days, I would have more patience with them than even they could handle. And that is because I now have to deal with some seriously sorry ass people. People who have no concept of personal responsibility, morals or just plain old common sense. And yes, I am talking about the dumbass military wife.

Now mind you, most military wives are not dumbasses at all. They are fabulous people who are well able to take care of themselves. They are whirlwinds, entrepreneurs and all around good folks. But these aren't the women who call me. No, no. In fact, I don't see them much at all because they are so busy keeping their shit together. I wish they would call me from time to time so I could have someone to gossip with. But instead I'm on the speed dial of the woman whom I will call Idiotina.

Idiotina is what you might call a blamer. It's not that she can't save money or that she spends it all shopping, it's just that the military doesn't pay her husband enough. It's not that her husband won't get promoted because of poor duty performance, it's that his boss hates him. And of course, it's not that other wives don't like her, it's that they are jealous of her. I'm used to Idiotina's calls by now. As the FRG leader, I'm her first line to help get issues resolved. So I calmly and as dispassionately as possible listen to her calls about why her husband can't leave work by 3pm, why she can't get bigger quarters, and why her husband can't be ordered to not speak to other women, well, like ever. But last night, she trumped all, by golly, when she called to complain that her husband would not impregnate her.

What the fuck?

Frankly, I'm not sure why I got this call at all. What does she expect me to do about the fact that her husband doesn't want to help her propogate the species (which, by the way, is probably the first good thing I've ever heard about him)? Call back over my shoulder to CPT Dick and say, "Eh, honey, can you please release Idiotina's husband from whatever job he's currently doing and order him to go home and get to babymaking?"

Was she just venting and I'm the only unjealous girl she knows? I don't know. And so I simply listen, try not to laugh and remind Idiotina that there are couples counseling options available to her at no cost.

The thing is, as much as I dread answering the phone every time I see Idiotina's number on the Caller ID, I won't stop myself from picking up. Because, I hope -- and this is where I'm actually getting some personal growth out of all of this -- I hope that someone who may really need my help will hear that I'm open enough to listen to the Idiotinas of the bunch and call me even if she is scared or unsure. I hope that she knows I will listen and not laugh. And I hope that she knows that if she is in a situation where I can actually intervene, I will move heaven and earth to make her issue go away. But in the meantime, I'll keep listening to Idiotina and consider it practice.

Although, next time, I swear, I'm just going to suggest she buy a striped shirt and apply for a job in consulting.