Friday, November 16, 2007

You don't really want to mess with me tonight.

Dear "Manager",

Do you ever, ever, EVER stop talking?

As you can see, I have just walked through the door after a training class that taxed not only my patience but my brain. I am tired, because as you can see if you looked at your email today, I was working until 11pm from home. And? I have a cold that has hung out for over a week now. Do not start hammering me with questions before I have the opportunity to sit down, turn on my computer, and crack a Diet Pepsi. Do not. The consequences are not anything that you and your Oompa-Loompa ass can deal with.

Additionally? No. I do not want to hear your stories. I don't care what you and your mom did this weekend. I could give two craps about what the guy at Sears said. I don't care what you watched on television last night. No. I don't care. I don't care. I DON'T CARE. I. DON'T. CARE.

Here's a hint, because clearly you aren't getting it. If you start talking and I continue to work, completely ignore you, and do not respond to anything you say? That means I'm not interested. Stop talking.

Also? No one cares. No one cares. NO ONE CARES. Keep repeating this to yourself, over and over and over and over again until you understand. No one cares.

Really. No one.


PS: Everyone told me that yesterday you said that your plan for the day was to do as little work as possible and then leave early. Please tell me how that is different from your plan any other day, ever?

PS again: When you said that the reason that you had never been married was because women were indecisive? It was all I could do to scream in your face, "THAT IS SO NOT THE REASON." Because let me assure you, that is NOT THE REASON.

Dear Guy at Big Lots last night,

Somehow you have mistaken me for someone who gives a crap. I don't know how you came to this conclusion since I was ignoring you and not even making eye contact and really, I was only there to get my discount cereal and granola bars, not to give you a dissertation on where the mayonnaise, crackers, and tuna are.

I'm not a Big Lots employee. Note the lack of orange vest and my surly expression. Okay, the surly expression goes either way, but anyway. Ask them or find it yourself.

Additionally? I don't think I would purchase mayonnaise from Big Lots. Maybe that's just me, but everything is on a extreme discount mostly because it's old.

Just something to ponder.

See ya never!

That Chick

Dear Management,

I know that you all are clearly much, much more intelligent than I, if we are basing such things solely on your office space and annual salaries, but, um, HELLO, did no one but me notice that there is a massive water leak in a room that has electrical equipment? I mean, can't you hear what sounds like a waterfall? Don't you notice that when you walk to this side of the building that your shoes get wet?

Really? I'm the only one?

Okay then.

-That Chick


Have I mentioned you are a douchebag? Because you are.

The end,


PS: If you forward me one more thing to do "when I get time" while you are sitting there talking on the phone to your mom? You will be lucky if you extract my shoe from your ass by next week.

Dear husband,

I love you.

And? After today? I love you even more.

Because if you were like some of these people I have encountered lately? Things would not be good between us.

Love you. Love you. Love you.

Your wife


Anonymous said...

Your manager sounds like a complete tool. And then some!

Angie said...

. . . Big Lots Mayonnaise. . . nuh-huh. Ick. Ick. Ick.

Kimberly said...

Oh, I love how you ended that! The idiots of the world make us appreciate our only slightly idiotic loved ones, don't they?

AnGlOpHiLe FoOtBaLl FaNaTiC said...

Dear Manager: I can only picture you as Ted from Scrubs from here on out.

I hope you got that. Ted is a geek who lives with his mom.

frannie said...

so glad you have a least one competent person in your life! :0

and JoyT says that I should smack you to make me feel better.

love you!

nailgirl said...

Hey chica, I just wanted to reply to you post on my blog. I know you blog everyday :)
I just meant that alot of people dont, so signing up for nablopomo is an extra treat for me, because then my favorite bloggers have to post everyday :)

Rachel said...

You make me appreciate my boss even more!! Love the open letters!

Jill said...

OH MY GOD. I'm so glad I found you. You are hilarious.

Remind me to never cross you!

my4kids said...

I agree with Kellie sounds like you boss is a complete tool. Why is it sometimes those people even end up in management?

Kelly Malloy said...

Those sound like some letters I would LOVE to send! LOL!

Beckie said...

He does sound like a real jewel...I can't believe he sends you emails with things that you can get to when you have time, but makes it known that he is going to do as little as possible. Wait...maybe I can believe that.

KiKi said...

i think one of my coworkers doubles as your manager... you have him pegged. your blog is awesome (but makes my sides hurt from laughing, so could you tone it down a little? lol)

stepmomof2 said...

Love the open letters; hilarious as usual!

SJ said...

Your manager sounds like a real treat. Love the open letters, as always :)

Blue Momma said...

Mr. Burns should have Smithers fire them all!!!

Except for you, of course.

Sue said...

Oh dear. This is giving me very bad flashbacks to life before self employment. {plugs ears with fingers, goes to happy place}

Jocelyn said...

Could I start trying to find you a job up here in Minnesota? Naw, that wouldn't help. Managers are asses the world over.

At least Jason saved your day.

Emma in Canada said...

Ack, I love your letters. And Jason? He is lucky to have you. And you are lucky to have Jason. Cause let me tell I so do not feel that way about William.

Morgan Leigh said...

Your open letters are always great. Always, always, always.


You are so my hero!