House of cards

I was asked my occupation twice today, with quite wildly differing results; the first time was at the doctor, where I replied with happy confidence, all proud of myself "I'm a painter".
Which is true.
The second time I was asked was on the phone to my bank. I replied "I'm a supermarker cashier".
This is also true.
What is very different is how the two answers made me feel and made the asker react. The doctor was interested and encouraging; the telesales bank bitch was patronising and dismissive. Oh, did I say that out loud? I hope you recorded it for training purposes.
She said, "What is your monthly income, take-home?"
I muttered an answer, already feeling patronised.
She said, "Is the joint account with your husband?"
I corrected her to 'partner', feeling her reaction sink in.
She said, "How to you hope to pay back the monthly amount; what share of the mortgage do you pay?"
I pointed out that we share a joint account and so we share the bills. They come out of the joint account and we don't do sums like that.
She said, "Shall I put 50% then?"
I said "No, you could put down what I said if you like."
She said nothing but I felt the condescention in waves down the wire.
I resisted the urge to hang up, realising that she would call back and make me feel even smaller.
I said "Listen, I'm really not interested in paying back twice the amount I borrowed over seven years, lets just forget it shall we?"
She said "I'll just put that it was declined then."
I said "No... lets do that truth thing again."
Me, being naive and a little romantic about the world, had always kind of believed that actually my bank was kind of nice and wanted to help me out with my money issues and resolve my debts in a friendly and practical way best for me. Don't you just hate that 'opening of the eyes' thing; the removal of comfortable ignorance and replacement with bare, boney old truths...
Nine months to build the confidence and exuberance to get out there, do this, walk into galleries and show them my work; five minutes to a call centre and I'm feeling just about ready to throw in the towel; down came the titular card house I had so laboriously built.

Luckily, us girls have some defence systems tried and tested over generations; honed to perfection by a thousand patronised and dismissed souls. First; we play a little music - I chose Alanis Morisette's apt composition 'Joining you' in which she sings to her friend's suicidal daughter:
'If we were our incomes, if we were our obsessions, if we were our afflictions....
If we were our bodies, if we were our futures, if we were our defences I'd be joining you.'
Followed it up with a light burst of Flashdance, a touch of Fame and a soul warming dose of the very lovely Joan Armatrading.
Then... I watched Thelma and Louise.
Right as rain now.