My Name Is

Thanks to Jenny the Bloggess's tweet of Saturday, I too have had a mini rant about people getting my name wrong. It's on "hello my fucking name is", (click) but if you can't access that site because of all the expletives, I have recreated it here for your delectation. Bon appetit!

My name is Sarah. It has been for over thirty years thanks to my parents. Most people have their parents to thank for their name.

However, despite this, my mother often gets it wrong. I'm the youngest of three: my brother Simon is six years my senior and Samantha (Sam) is five years older. Simon gets called Simon by our mother. Good for him. Sam gets called Si- Sam. Mum's train of thought for remembering her children's names must go chronologically. Ergo, I get called Si-Sam-Sarah. Always have done. Love you too, Mum.

Through my life, I have encountered many people who ask if my name is with a H or without. It's with. WITH! If it weren't, I’d be Sara, pronounced Sarr-rarr. Stupid people. That's a completely different name.

However, things took a surreal turn six years ago. I got a job in a call centre. I have targets to hit, partly made up of quality checks. To hit my quality scores, I have to say certain things including introducing myself. (That's pretty much common courtesy anyway.) In my time in the job, I've been called the following, by customers and colleagues alike:

Sharon – Okay. It starts with the same letter. I can cope with a little brain fart.
Amanda – Weirdly, quite a few different people call me this. I must 'look' or 'sound' like an Amanda.

I can’t work out the train of thought in these:
Tracy
Charlotte
Rebecca
Ginny
Elizabeth

Don't they listen?! I'm Sarah! SARAH! It's an easy, common name! DON'T MAKE ME HURT YOU!