What is the point?

I thought I would avoid the whole writing about work phenomenon, but my boss just came in to ask me the same question - for the fifth time. And I gave her the same answer - for the fifth time. Her asking the same question over and over again would not bother me so much if it wasn't for the tone of voice she uses, which suggests that I am an incompetent scatter-brain who cannot get her shit together to make this one simple change. Except the incompetent scatter-brain made the change FOUR MONTHS AGO, when she first asked me to.

Isn't there some sort of magical cave I can enter on some numerologically significant day after various trials and tribulations (some involving virgins) to find a wise man /power animal /leprechaun /goddess /monkey /magical spinning wheel that will reveal my soul's purpose unto me? I heard on NPR there might be one in San Antonio, under the sno-cone vendors in front of the Alamo, where blue stalactites form from the drip-drip-drip of raspberry syrup. Would I trust the rest of my life to a goddess who lived in a sno-cone cave, fingers stained the colors of the rainbow from FD red #40, FD yellow #5, FD violet #2?

Yes. Yes I would.