You don't know nothing about me

I can't stand it when people second guess me, because they think they've got my number. Guess what? My number is unlisted!
I am so ticked off at this point that I can hardly think. Someone at the University that I have to work with as part of my assistantship had said that she was going to write what I thought was a plum article for my department newsletter. It would involve going to Philadephia and interviewing a young restauranteur at his place and taking pictures. I said okay for her to do it as she is my superior. No problem there. Then she emails me this morning with that she is passing it on to a student worker to do a phone interview. I discuss it with my immediate boss  before replying that we would do the story ourselves.

That sets her off. She emails me to call her, and before I get it she is already on the phone for me to argue that I should give this work study worker an opportunity for publishing credit. If she worked in my department no problem, but she doesn't. Also, I wouldn't give her such an importnat assignment out of the box. I stood firm about what my vision for the article should be, and she said it wasn't worth the trip to Philly and asks to speak to my immediate boss. No problem, I said and handed it over to her.

Her feeling is that to go to Philly would be a job for a professional and she is not willing to pay for a professional. What am I? I can  interview local entrepreneurs and cover local arts events and board of ed meetings for the local paper. I can write for a regional magazine, but I am not a professional?

Reporters I meet from the Camden papers and the Philly papers treat me like a peer, but to University Affairs I am a amateur. She doesn't know me.

I am trying to calm down so I can have a successful meeting  at  DYFS this afternoon. I can't go in there already spitting fire.