I’m a watchdog, stupid

Been feeling a little anxious this week, what with all the yelling going on from this customer of mine. I’ve been waking up at night, thinking I’m being paged, and I’m even dreaming about waking up and getting paged — this usually leads me to wake up, thinking I’m being paged.
I’m dreading coming into work, and the emails from this customer are not very charitable, to say the least. Granted, the customer is given to hyperbole, and no one could really be as bad as they make me out to be. For example: they say they’ve been dealing with my impertinence on this issue for over SIX MONTHS!!! now. In fact, it’s been a little less than a month altogether. Some symptom that I’ve been told about A MILLION TIMES!!! in reality came to light on Monday of last week, to which we offered a solution the same day. Luckily, I’ve saved all the email correspondence from this customer, but even that has proved useless in convincing them of my innocence. I’ve quoted line by line of their original emails back to them, complete with timestamps, and they simply ignore these as irrelevant. Bah, who cares about proof? What is this thing called “evidence” that I speak of? After all, it’s not how good or how bad I am that matters. It’s how bad I’m being perceived by them — that’s what matters.
This is what’s been making me a little edgy this week. Getting paged at midnight to forward documentation that can be found on our website. Getting a critical call because someone doesn’t know how to gunzip a file. Someone who can’t find a watchdog process, because it’s not wearing a XXXL t-shirt saying “Hey, I’m a watchdog, stupid!”
Ah, so I’m calming down quietly, drinking a glass of Chilean Merlot, typing away at the computer. I really should just relax, and put on some quiet music. I should turn off the pager….