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That's enough!
Feb. 24th, 2007 12:21 amDear Universe,
You have enough cat souls for now. Quit it, please.
Sincerely,
Me
You have enough cat souls for now. Quit it, please.
Sincerely,
Me
Open letter
Feb. 18th, 2007 10:07 pmDear Fate,
Why, oh why, when I've been trying so very hard to be good, are you choosing to heap one small frustration on top of another? Why? I am being good. I am catching up on my financial obligations. I am trying to keep my apartment neat. I am trying to hold down this job I have. I'm trying to exercise regularly, and to get out, and to see my friends, and to honour my obligations, and to pay down my remaining debts.
I am trying very, very hard. It's not all working just yet, but I'm getting there. So why no love? Breaking my doorknob just as I'm trying to leave, and then losing my gloves, and making me miss the bus... even all of that, I could have taken in stride, if not especially gracefully. But a migraine on top of that? Just... Bite me.
No love at all,
Me
Why, oh why, when I've been trying so very hard to be good, are you choosing to heap one small frustration on top of another? Why? I am being good. I am catching up on my financial obligations. I am trying to keep my apartment neat. I am trying to hold down this job I have. I'm trying to exercise regularly, and to get out, and to see my friends, and to honour my obligations, and to pay down my remaining debts.
I am trying very, very hard. It's not all working just yet, but I'm getting there. So why no love? Breaking my doorknob just as I'm trying to leave, and then losing my gloves, and making me miss the bus... even all of that, I could have taken in stride, if not especially gracefully. But a migraine on top of that? Just... Bite me.
No love at all,
Me
Return of the illiterate twit
Feb. 6th, 2007 09:30 amDear Illiterate Twit™,
The best way to piss me off after I've emailed you politely telling you that A) the items have been promised to the first responders, and B) that on the off-chance that hell freezes over and everyone in front of you is a no-show, then I might consider letting you come get them, is to email me asking me how many people are on the list and then insisting that I meet you at the metro with the stuff, possibly making me make several trips.
Uh, no.
There was this bit about "pick-up only," remember? I repeated this twice. Clearly you're not completely illiterate, only selectively so.
So, I'm through being polite with you. You're not getting any of the stuff. Period.
No love,
Me
The best way to piss me off after I've emailed you politely telling you that A) the items have been promised to the first responders, and B) that on the off-chance that hell freezes over and everyone in front of you is a no-show, then I might consider letting you come get them, is to email me asking me how many people are on the list and then insisting that I meet you at the metro with the stuff, possibly making me make several trips.
Uh, no.
There was this bit about "pick-up only," remember? I repeated this twice. Clearly you're not completely illiterate, only selectively so.
So, I'm through being polite with you. You're not getting any of the stuff. Period.
No love,
Me
Open letter
Jan. 5th, 2007 08:52 pmDear co-workers,
There are three of us supposed to be working tonight. Kindly stop fucking around outside, which you've been doing for the past THREE HOURS, and come in and help me. I realise you think that, as the n00b, I won't complain or rock the boat, but I must tell you that if you think you'll be able to do this with me indefinitely, you labour under the gravest delusion.
No love,
Me
:::ETA:::
Okay, they're back. Egads. I really don't like the Friday night crew. Bunch of slackers.
:::end ETA:::
Tonight I think I shall have eggnog and Bailey's. I so totally deserve it. Besides, it's my birthday. :)
:::ETA #2:::
Of course, it doesn't actually help me that they're back, given that they're STILL fucking around and not doing much of anything. Gah! I miss the regular crew...
:::end ETA #2:::
There are three of us supposed to be working tonight. Kindly stop fucking around outside, which you've been doing for the past THREE HOURS, and come in and help me. I realise you think that, as the n00b, I won't complain or rock the boat, but I must tell you that if you think you'll be able to do this with me indefinitely, you labour under the gravest delusion.
No love,
Me
:::ETA:::
Okay, they're back. Egads. I really don't like the Friday night crew. Bunch of slackers.
:::end ETA:::
Tonight I think I shall have eggnog and Bailey's. I so totally deserve it. Besides, it's my birthday. :)
:::ETA #2:::
Of course, it doesn't actually help me that they're back, given that they're STILL fucking around and not doing much of anything. Gah! I miss the regular crew...
:::end ETA #2:::
Well, there went my day...
Nov. 17th, 2006 05:42 pmDear Migraine Fairy,
Don't you ever take a day off? Seriously, have you considered retirement? I hear there are plenty of great resorts out there that you could visit. Bring a book, put your feet up. I know from personal experience how hard you've been working lately. Maybe it's time you took advantage of that great retirement package I'm sure you must have.
Please, please take my advice.
Love,
Me
Gah. Stupid migraine. It didn't even have the grace to warn me, the way the others do. I was going along, minding my own business, until suddenly, there was this migraine: "Hi Phnee! I'm going to make you feel as though someone just stabbed you in the eye with a knitting needle! Isn't this fun?"
So I went to bed around 1:30. It took about forty minutes for me to get to sleep. Woke up about fifteen minutes ago, and thought I had dodged a bullet. See, when I wake up with a jolt (in this case because I remembered I have somewhere to be tonight), the pain usually comes back and hits me like a sledgehammer. This time, it didn't, and I foolishly thought I was scott-free.
Not the case. I can feel the damn migraine lurking on the edges. So, off to take more pills (yay), and hope that I'll be functional enough to get out of the house in about an hour and a half.
I don't have a good migraine icon. I should fix that.
Don't you ever take a day off? Seriously, have you considered retirement? I hear there are plenty of great resorts out there that you could visit. Bring a book, put your feet up. I know from personal experience how hard you've been working lately. Maybe it's time you took advantage of that great retirement package I'm sure you must have.
Please, please take my advice.
Love,
Me
Gah. Stupid migraine. It didn't even have the grace to warn me, the way the others do. I was going along, minding my own business, until suddenly, there was this migraine: "Hi Phnee! I'm going to make you feel as though someone just stabbed you in the eye with a knitting needle! Isn't this fun?"
So I went to bed around 1:30. It took about forty minutes for me to get to sleep. Woke up about fifteen minutes ago, and thought I had dodged a bullet. See, when I wake up with a jolt (in this case because I remembered I have somewhere to be tonight), the pain usually comes back and hits me like a sledgehammer. This time, it didn't, and I foolishly thought I was scott-free.
Not the case. I can feel the damn migraine lurking on the edges. So, off to take more pills (yay), and hope that I'll be functional enough to get out of the house in about an hour and a half.
I don't have a good migraine icon. I should fix that.
Open letter
Oct. 25th, 2006 10:57 pmDear government asshats,
Please stop sending me letters telling me you've "revised" my tax claim for last year and demanding more money. Seriously, this is the third time this year I've had to cut you a damned cheque, and I'm getting a little tired of it. The horse is dead (and broke), so please stop beating it. How many times in one year can you harp on a teeny tiny thing like my poor, insignificant T4? Really. How many? Is it a little challenge you've issued to your department? "Hey, let's see if we can drive this random taxpayer around the bend! First one to make her crack gets a Christmas bonus!"
Where the hell is the vaunted tax break you promised? Oh, right. I'm not allowed a tax break because I'm not a wealthy landowner.
Well, fuck you too.
No love,
Me
Please stop sending me letters telling me you've "revised" my tax claim for last year and demanding more money. Seriously, this is the third time this year I've had to cut you a damned cheque, and I'm getting a little tired of it. The horse is dead (and broke), so please stop beating it. How many times in one year can you harp on a teeny tiny thing like my poor, insignificant T4? Really. How many? Is it a little challenge you've issued to your department? "Hey, let's see if we can drive this random taxpayer around the bend! First one to make her crack gets a Christmas bonus!"
Where the hell is the vaunted tax break you promised? Oh, right. I'm not allowed a tax break because I'm not a wealthy landowner.
Well, fuck you too.
No love,
Me
Open letter
Sep. 28th, 2006 08:35 pmDear Client,
We are NOT open at 8:30 at night. We are not a supermarket. Kindly do not call and expect any of our employees to be here. They have all gone home and are probably having dinner or watching TV. No, they will NOT be checking their email tonight either.
Please, for the love of all that's good and holy, put down the phone and go pay attention to your loved ones.
No love,
Me
We are NOT open at 8:30 at night. We are not a supermarket. Kindly do not call and expect any of our employees to be here. They have all gone home and are probably having dinner or watching TV. No, they will NOT be checking their email tonight either.
Please, for the love of all that's good and holy, put down the phone and go pay attention to your loved ones.
No love,
Me
Open letter
Jul. 18th, 2006 01:14 amDear Insomnia Fairy,
Feel free to fuck off. I did not invite you over, and I don't need your "blessing," thank you very much. I want to go to sleep now. And no, lying in the dark with my eyes closed is not 75% as effective as sleep. I tried that in university, and it didn't work.
Like I said before: fuck off.
I'm going back to bed now. You better be gone next time I look.
No love at all,
Me
Feel free to fuck off. I did not invite you over, and I don't need your "blessing," thank you very much. I want to go to sleep now. And no, lying in the dark with my eyes closed is not 75% as effective as sleep. I tried that in university, and it didn't work.
Like I said before: fuck off.
I'm going back to bed now. You better be gone next time I look.
No love at all,
Me
Another open letter
Jun. 4th, 2006 10:30 pmDear Spammers,
I don't own a house. I don't really own anything large of value. You are wasting your time by offering me "gr8 0pp0rtun1t13s on mortgages! LOW RATESSS!!!11!1!"
I don't want or need your offers, nor, if I were enough of a sucker to fall for your spammy efforts, would I even be eligible. Please stop wasting both our time. In fact, stop wasting my time, it is infinitely more valuable than yours.
No love,
Me
I don't own a house. I don't really own anything large of value. You are wasting your time by offering me "gr8 0pp0rtun1t13s on mortgages! LOW RATESSS!!!11!1!"
I don't want or need your offers, nor, if I were enough of a sucker to fall for your spammy efforts, would I even be eligible. Please stop wasting both our time. In fact, stop wasting my time, it is infinitely more valuable than yours.
No love,
Me
Haven't done one of these in a while...
Apr. 14th, 2006 01:52 pmDear Credit!Guy,
Okay, asshat. You have officially messed with the wrong girl. You cannot expect to play passive-aggressive mind games with me and expect to win. I learned from the best, and your Passive-Aggression Fu is so weak by comparison it doesn't even register on the scales.
We need you to authorise the overdrafts every single day. Or not authorise them, I don't care. But you know and I know that you must, must, must answer within 24 hours or else we can't refuse the clients' checks, and then all the important credit stuff you hold so dear goes down the toilet.
Last time you and I had this little exchange, you claimed that you signed all the authorisations but, to your great astonishment, they didn't magically mail themselves. Once you figured out that you had to put them in the internal mail system yourself, things went better for a few days.
Then you stopped sending them again. I decided to be lenient. Maybe there was another "problem" with the mail. I let a week go by, then ten days. After ten days, I decided enough was enough, and I sent you another email.
Instead of replying to tell me what went wrong, you sent a snarky email asking where our follow-up on two files was, and stating that you'd refused it a long time ago. News to me, buddy. So I brought out the big guns, and Boss!Lady called you. You then snarkily informed her that you already sent the authorisations from ten days ago (which is a bloody lie, since I have received nothing. Either that, or you're an even bigger asshat than I thought and you can't even address an internal mail envelope properly. If that's the case, God help you, because no one else can.), and that you PURPOSEFULLY kept back the latest two, to see how long it would take us to react.
How do I put this politely?
Blow me.
You want to play passive-aggressive with me? Fine. I can do that. I can do it waaaaay better than you can, and guess what? I have NOTHING better to do with my time than to harass you every. single. fucking. day. about the overdrafts. By the time we're done, you will RUE the day you decided to play petty power games with me. I will make it my personal mission in life to email you twice a day and leave phone messages, each more polite than the last, "encouraging" you to send the overdraft authorisations to me. If I don't receive them in the internal mail in the morning, you will hear from me. I will contact you as I am faxing the authorisation requests by email and by phone if needs be.
You think playing power games with the department is fun? You have fucked with a secretary, buddy. Big, big mistake. Secretaries can be your best friends or your worst enemies: we hold the keys to the filing system, the message system, and the internal mail system. We fucking RUN this bank.
In short, dear Credit!Guy, you are completely, utterly fucked, and it's all your own doing.
No love,
Me
Okay, asshat. You have officially messed with the wrong girl. You cannot expect to play passive-aggressive mind games with me and expect to win. I learned from the best, and your Passive-Aggression Fu is so weak by comparison it doesn't even register on the scales.
We need you to authorise the overdrafts every single day. Or not authorise them, I don't care. But you know and I know that you must, must, must answer within 24 hours or else we can't refuse the clients' checks, and then all the important credit stuff you hold so dear goes down the toilet.
Last time you and I had this little exchange, you claimed that you signed all the authorisations but, to your great astonishment, they didn't magically mail themselves. Once you figured out that you had to put them in the internal mail system yourself, things went better for a few days.
Then you stopped sending them again. I decided to be lenient. Maybe there was another "problem" with the mail. I let a week go by, then ten days. After ten days, I decided enough was enough, and I sent you another email.
Instead of replying to tell me what went wrong, you sent a snarky email asking where our follow-up on two files was, and stating that you'd refused it a long time ago. News to me, buddy. So I brought out the big guns, and Boss!Lady called you. You then snarkily informed her that you already sent the authorisations from ten days ago (which is a bloody lie, since I have received nothing. Either that, or you're an even bigger asshat than I thought and you can't even address an internal mail envelope properly. If that's the case, God help you, because no one else can.), and that you PURPOSEFULLY kept back the latest two, to see how long it would take us to react.
How do I put this politely?
Blow me.
You want to play passive-aggressive with me? Fine. I can do that. I can do it waaaaay better than you can, and guess what? I have NOTHING better to do with my time than to harass you every. single. fucking. day. about the overdrafts. By the time we're done, you will RUE the day you decided to play petty power games with me. I will make it my personal mission in life to email you twice a day and leave phone messages, each more polite than the last, "encouraging" you to send the overdraft authorisations to me. If I don't receive them in the internal mail in the morning, you will hear from me. I will contact you as I am faxing the authorisation requests by email and by phone if needs be.
You think playing power games with the department is fun? You have fucked with a secretary, buddy. Big, big mistake. Secretaries can be your best friends or your worst enemies: we hold the keys to the filing system, the message system, and the internal mail system. We fucking RUN this bank.
In short, dear Credit!Guy, you are completely, utterly fucked, and it's all your own doing.
No love,
Me
Argh! Kill!
Jan. 26th, 2006 02:49 pmDear CAM,
Thank you OH so much for dithering about this latest boardsheet. Coming back TWICE to tell me you've forgotten something, and thus making me do THREE TIMES the usual amount of work is exactly what I needed today.
Oh, and may I add something? It is NOT MY FUCKING JOB to remind you to do your job. If a document always needs to be put with the boardsheets (required by law), guess what? It's your responsibility to remember. That's why they pay you the big bucks.
I, on the other hand, get paid less than twelve dollars an hour to do all the shit work you don't have time to deal with.
Feel free to go fuck yourself.
No love at all,
Me
Thank you OH so much for dithering about this latest boardsheet. Coming back TWICE to tell me you've forgotten something, and thus making me do THREE TIMES the usual amount of work is exactly what I needed today.
Oh, and may I add something? It is NOT MY FUCKING JOB to remind you to do your job. If a document always needs to be put with the boardsheets (required by law), guess what? It's your responsibility to remember. That's why they pay you the big bucks.
I, on the other hand, get paid less than twelve dollars an hour to do all the shit work you don't have time to deal with.
Feel free to go fuck yourself.
No love at all,
Me
Open letters are good for any occasion...
Jan. 26th, 2006 11:58 amDear Body,
There is nothing left for you to throw up. Please stop. I mean it.
StopitstopitstopitSTOPIT!!!
No love at all,
Me
There is nothing left for you to throw up. Please stop. I mean it.
StopitstopitstopitSTOPIT!!!
No love at all,
Me
Note to self
Jan. 20th, 2006 04:38 pmDear Self,
Don't taunt the CAM. It's too easy, and thus not as much fun in the end. Pick a target who won't automatically rise to your bait.
Love,
Me
In other news, almost everyone has left. L got a lift home with the CAM, and now I'm all by my lonesome at reception.
*twiddles thumbs*
I have one bill left to take care of, and several metric assloads of filing, and the One Form to do.
The One Form is pure, unadulterated administrative evil which takes me several days of very tedious research to complete. It's basically a form that puts all the departmental expenses in one place, and I have to verify the whole thing. Unfortunately, the One Form blithely assumes that we keep all this stuff in one place, which we don't. There isn't enough room, for one thing. Also, the One Form's concept of math does not correspond to Earth Math, so I spend a lot of time with my calculator trying to figure out where the hell those numbers came from. I've been doing this for nearly a year, and it still takes me forever to finish it.
One Form to frustrate them all
One Form to find them
One Form to bring them all
And in the Administration bind them...
Don't taunt the CAM. It's too easy, and thus not as much fun in the end. Pick a target who won't automatically rise to your bait.
Love,
Me
In other news, almost everyone has left. L got a lift home with the CAM, and now I'm all by my lonesome at reception.
*twiddles thumbs*
I have one bill left to take care of, and several metric assloads of filing, and the One Form to do.
The One Form is pure, unadulterated administrative evil which takes me several days of very tedious research to complete. It's basically a form that puts all the departmental expenses in one place, and I have to verify the whole thing. Unfortunately, the One Form blithely assumes that we keep all this stuff in one place, which we don't. There isn't enough room, for one thing. Also, the One Form's concept of math does not correspond to Earth Math, so I spend a lot of time with my calculator trying to figure out where the hell those numbers came from. I've been doing this for nearly a year, and it still takes me forever to finish it.
One Form to frustrate them all
One Form to find them
One Form to bring them all
And in the Administration bind them...
"Y mouille pas à peu près!"
Jan. 18th, 2006 10:25 amSuch were the comments at the office this morning. It's raining cats and dogs out there, and the ground is absolutely covered in slippery, wet ice.
I managed to get to the bus stop without killing myself only because I was following a group of little kids, and avoided every single patch of ice they slipped on. Don't worry, they were fine: they don't weigh much and they were dressed in thick snowsuits that padded their falls. I suspect I would have hurt myself much worse if I'd been the one to fall.
I am declaring today the Day of Soggy Paper. Everyone who comes in either drips on my papers or else hands me a very wet envelope. Which in turn leads me to one of my favourite passtimes, writing open letters to the asshats who make my day-to-day existence more annoying.
Dear Asshats Who Send Us Stuff By Messenger,
For the love of God, stop stapling your goddamn checks together. This is bad enough on normal days, when I have to unstaple them all at risk to life and limb. However, on days when it's raining, stapling your papers together means that they tear when I unstaple them, which is bad for everyone concerned.
If you're so goddamned worried about your checks, use a goddamned paperclip. It's not hard.
No love,
Me
Anyway, that's all for now. I'm hungry and a bit cranky, but otherwise things are well with the world. I didn't go to dance class last night, but instead passed out around 9pm and slept all the way through to 7am. Obviously I needed the sleep. Hopefully I'll be able to catch up on the class I missed next week.
I managed to get to the bus stop without killing myself only because I was following a group of little kids, and avoided every single patch of ice they slipped on. Don't worry, they were fine: they don't weigh much and they were dressed in thick snowsuits that padded their falls. I suspect I would have hurt myself much worse if I'd been the one to fall.
I am declaring today the Day of Soggy Paper. Everyone who comes in either drips on my papers or else hands me a very wet envelope. Which in turn leads me to one of my favourite passtimes, writing open letters to the asshats who make my day-to-day existence more annoying.
Dear Asshats Who Send Us Stuff By Messenger,
For the love of God, stop stapling your goddamn checks together. This is bad enough on normal days, when I have to unstaple them all at risk to life and limb. However, on days when it's raining, stapling your papers together means that they tear when I unstaple them, which is bad for everyone concerned.
If you're so goddamned worried about your checks, use a goddamned paperclip. It's not hard.
No love,
Me
Anyway, that's all for now. I'm hungry and a bit cranky, but otherwise things are well with the world. I didn't go to dance class last night, but instead passed out around 9pm and slept all the way through to 7am. Obviously I needed the sleep. Hopefully I'll be able to catch up on the class I missed next week.
Did I mention tired and cranky?
Jan. 11th, 2006 03:41 pmHave I mentioned lately how much I hate phones? It seems to me as though I haven't bitched about them in a while. Phones are hateful contraptions that ring when you're trying to get other stuff done. We hates them, precious, yesss...
I just tried to pick up the phone in the office, but it sits right under my counter, and if I'm sitting the wrong way (ie, trying to do something else), then the receiver catches on the lip of the counter and sends the whole thing flying. Which is what happened just now.
:::sends vibes of hatred toward the phone:::
While I'm at it:
Dear Rude Bike Messenger-Guy,
Being rude is a no-no. I don't know you and you don't know me, so let's keep the discourse civilised. There is no need to "tutoyer" me, nor is there any reason for you to snap at me to sign "legibly."
I realise, of course, that you have no way of knowing what my signature looks like before I've signed. As it happens, I sign receipts in block letters. I find it annoying that you automatically assume that it won't be legible, but that's not the real issue.
The real issue is your tone and your whole attitude. There is no need to be rude, as I said, and there is certainly no need to act as though I'm wasting your time. Your time is *never* wasted serving a customer efficiently and courteously. I did not reprimand you because I'm a bitch, I did so because you are providing me with poor service, while I in turn started out by being friendly and professional.
Please assimilate this lesson before coming again, thank you.
No love,
Me
I just tried to pick up the phone in the office, but it sits right under my counter, and if I'm sitting the wrong way (ie, trying to do something else), then the receiver catches on the lip of the counter and sends the whole thing flying. Which is what happened just now.
:::sends vibes of hatred toward the phone:::
While I'm at it:
Dear Rude Bike Messenger-Guy,
Being rude is a no-no. I don't know you and you don't know me, so let's keep the discourse civilised. There is no need to "tutoyer" me, nor is there any reason for you to snap at me to sign "legibly."
I realise, of course, that you have no way of knowing what my signature looks like before I've signed. As it happens, I sign receipts in block letters. I find it annoying that you automatically assume that it won't be legible, but that's not the real issue.
The real issue is your tone and your whole attitude. There is no need to be rude, as I said, and there is certainly no need to act as though I'm wasting your time. Your time is *never* wasted serving a customer efficiently and courteously. I did not reprimand you because I'm a bitch, I did so because you are providing me with poor service, while I in turn started out by being friendly and professional.
Please assimilate this lesson before coming again, thank you.
No love,
Me
Dear customers,
Stop calling.
There is no one but me in the office today. All the admin girls and L have gone on a special day-long treat to a spa with the Boss!Lady because we have the office Christmas party tonight. Some of the managers are here, but they can't help you. There's only me between you and the Forces of Darkness.
Also, stop calling with stupidly complex problems that I can't solve and expect me to solve them. I am the receptionist. I transfer calls, deal with mail, and make sure the managers don't trip over themselves occasionally. I can't give you an amortissement schedule or tell you whether or not a manager is planning to reply to you any time soon. I can't read their minds. Spouting numbers at me will. not. help. The numbers mean nothing to me. Promise. Cross my heart. No, giving me a different set of numbers also won't help. Like I said, numbers mean nothing to me. No, please don't try a third series of numbers. Your cause is lost.
Just, please stop fucking calling. No one is here who gives a damn about your problems.
Yours very sincerely but with no love,
Me
Stop calling.
There is no one but me in the office today. All the admin girls and L have gone on a special day-long treat to a spa with the Boss!Lady because we have the office Christmas party tonight. Some of the managers are here, but they can't help you. There's only me between you and the Forces of Darkness.
Also, stop calling with stupidly complex problems that I can't solve and expect me to solve them. I am the receptionist. I transfer calls, deal with mail, and make sure the managers don't trip over themselves occasionally. I can't give you an amortissement schedule or tell you whether or not a manager is planning to reply to you any time soon. I can't read their minds. Spouting numbers at me will. not. help. The numbers mean nothing to me. Promise. Cross my heart. No, giving me a different set of numbers also won't help. Like I said, numbers mean nothing to me. No, please don't try a third series of numbers. Your cause is lost.
Just, please stop fucking calling. No one is here who gives a damn about your problems.
Yours very sincerely but with no love,
Me
That's just nasty...
Dec. 13th, 2005 02:47 pmDear TMI Manager,
Showers and deodorant are your friends. Swear to God. Use them liberally, they won't let you down.
Also, please stop talking. You have said nothing of any value or significance all day, and yet you won't. shut. up. Please do so now.
Yours from a distance,
Me
Showers and deodorant are your friends. Swear to God. Use them liberally, they won't let you down.
Also, please stop talking. You have said nothing of any value or significance all day, and yet you won't. shut. up. Please do so now.
Yours from a distance,
Me
I'm in the mood for open letters today
Dec. 9th, 2005 04:35 pmDear Universe,
Anytime you feel like not pissing on me anymore, you're welcome to do that. Really, you can stop anytime. I won't mind.
Sincerely,
Me
Anytime you feel like not pissing on me anymore, you're welcome to do that. Really, you can stop anytime. I won't mind.
Sincerely,
Me
Well, fuck you too
Dec. 9th, 2005 02:45 pmDear coworker,
Yes, I wasn't here for the past hour. That's because I was having lunch. Just like you did an hour before me. Yes, I don't know what happened during that hour. Neither do you know what happened during the hour you were away.
This does NOT entitle you to be rude with me. It does NOT mean that you can snipe at me and then say "I don't want to talk to you because you weren't here and you don't know what went on." How old are you? Four? I stopped "not talking" to my friends when I was angry when I was still in grade school.
Either enlighten me about why you're pissed off, or else suck it the fuck up. Lord knows I don't take it out on you when I'm in a bad mood. Please show me the same courtesy. Thank you.
No love,
Me
Yes, I wasn't here for the past hour. That's because I was having lunch. Just like you did an hour before me. Yes, I don't know what happened during that hour. Neither do you know what happened during the hour you were away.
This does NOT entitle you to be rude with me. It does NOT mean that you can snipe at me and then say "I don't want to talk to you because you weren't here and you don't know what went on." How old are you? Four? I stopped "not talking" to my friends when I was angry when I was still in grade school.
Either enlighten me about why you're pissed off, or else suck it the fuck up. Lord knows I don't take it out on you when I'm in a bad mood. Please show me the same courtesy. Thank you.
No love,
Me
Oh, God, the timing...
Nov. 18th, 2005 09:54 amDear PTBs at NaNoWriMo,
Your timing for asking me for money is a wee bit off. No, let me correct that: completely off. Even if I had had money to give you before, which I didn't, let me tell you, I sure as hell don't have it now that I have to get my computer fixed.
I realize you sent that email to everyone in creation. I realize it's not personal. I just wanted you to know that your timing is lousy.
So, not surprisingly, you will not be getting money from me. Maybe some of the other 96% of people who haven't contributed to your cause will be able to dig in their wallets for this. Sadly, my wallet is empty.
No love,
Me
Your timing for asking me for money is a wee bit off. No, let me correct that: completely off. Even if I had had money to give you before, which I didn't, let me tell you, I sure as hell don't have it now that I have to get my computer fixed.
I realize you sent that email to everyone in creation. I realize it's not personal. I just wanted you to know that your timing is lousy.
So, not surprisingly, you will not be getting money from me. Maybe some of the other 96% of people who haven't contributed to your cause will be able to dig in their wallets for this. Sadly, my wallet is empty.
No love,
Me
