So I’m not every woman.
This post was written in mid-December. I decided not to post it because most of my ire was extinguished from just writing it down. And it was pretty close to Christmas and, you know, baby Jesus probably wouldn't approve of my nastiness.
But it's a new year now and I am resolved to be the same person as last year (minus a few pounds and a radio flyer full of nasty debt), and I'm being hassled by my folks to post something already! So here goes...and happy new year! By the way, the idiots sure were out in full force in Times Square last night, huh? I mean, I just can't stand that sort of manufactured Good Time, full of Disney performers and commercials and ugh. Isn't New York supposed to be cool and cutting edge and full of culture and shit? All I see is advertisement light pollution and Miley Cyrus. Oh yeah--on to the post! Enjoy! : )
I am not one of those women who sends email prayers to ten people who make my day special. I am not a woman who receives one of these electronic turds, gets all choked up about it, and then spends 30 minutes writing a loooooong email reply to the sender, exclaiming how said prayer made me realize how lucky I was to have sender as a bff (big fuckin’ flake?) and how said prayer made my day because I was feeling pretty low (insert lengthy explanation as to why at this point). I am not a woman who writes that reply in some barely legible girl font, in hot pink, with a background that probably took most of the workday to design. I am not a woman who signs each and every email with
Have a great day!!!
Lulu Godkittenslover
Tourism Resource Specialist
“We don’t stop playing because we get old, we get old because we stop playing!!” Take that with you in your day and you will be a happier person for it! (Smiley face icon. Or two). God Bless!!! Lu
No, I am not that woman.
But the intern who works for me is. Instead of working, she crafts elaborate emails to each and every person she knows—a few of them are even work-related! And they are stupid. So stupid. Aggressively stupid. And if you had to actually try to get this woman to do work things for you without mucking everything up and vacillating wildly between manic and depression…and you know those girls you went to high school with who played a hair-band ballad for their first dance at their first wedding (and who get choked up at Kid Rock songs now. Kid Rock!) and wear WAY too much makeup and currently do hair? And you know that snottyass kinda stupid girl attitude that they emanate from time-to-time? Mmm-hmm, girlfriend. You know it. Well, if you were her boss, you’d grow to hate her, too.
I know this about her emails because 1. I’ve been on the receiving end of a few relatively short ones and 2. I sometimes need to use the computer in the tourism office and, yesterday, she not only left it on, she left herself logged in with her email right there on the screen—on a Friday afternoon before leaving (early of course—she had to renew her ten prescriptions) for the weekend!
Of course, I read some of her emails, er, rather, her letters to her buddies. So annoying and non-work related. And that’s when it hit me that I must blog about these women who share the goopiest sentiments over email in response to email-generated shite.
Yes, it’s true that I’ve never used office email, internet, or time for non-work related things. OK, it’s not true. But here’s the difference: With the exception of maybe a day or so every couple of months, I go in the office and get shit done. In fact, most days I work really hard—skipping lunch sort of hard. She doesn’t. She twits and fritters noisily over a to-do list for a fucking festival—not an important meeting, or a budget review, or a strategic plan. A festival to-do list with things like “make copies of ballots on green paper” and “pick up luminaries from workshop”. And she wants my job! Or for me to give her a job once her contract is finally—finally! hooray!—up in February.
So why am I writing all of this very late at night? Getting myself surprisingly worked up? Because I’m sitting here in bed with my laptop and I figured I should do something with it besides play Tetris. I wouldn’t be playing Tetris if it wasn’t for my mom, who downloaded Tetris and other games onto a memory stick for me, which is exactly like giving a big festive bottle of Bailey’s to a recovering alcoholic. Soon, I’ll have to delete these games from my computer lest I waste even more time.
Bottom line: She annoys me (the intern—not my mom). I’m not giving her a job recommendation let alone a job. You, dear reader, can send me the occasional email tidbit, just keep the prayers to a minimum. Better yet, don’t send it. I promise you I will not return it to the person who sent it to me and I really won’t send it to ten others.
God Bless!!! :-D
But it's a new year now and I am resolved to be the same person as last year (minus a few pounds and a radio flyer full of nasty debt), and I'm being hassled by my folks to post something already! So here goes...and happy new year! By the way, the idiots sure were out in full force in Times Square last night, huh? I mean, I just can't stand that sort of manufactured Good Time, full of Disney performers and commercials and ugh. Isn't New York supposed to be cool and cutting edge and full of culture and shit? All I see is advertisement light pollution and Miley Cyrus. Oh yeah--on to the post! Enjoy! : )
I am not one of those women who sends email prayers to ten people who make my day special. I am not a woman who receives one of these electronic turds, gets all choked up about it, and then spends 30 minutes writing a loooooong email reply to the sender, exclaiming how said prayer made me realize how lucky I was to have sender as a bff (big fuckin’ flake?) and how said prayer made my day because I was feeling pretty low (insert lengthy explanation as to why at this point). I am not a woman who writes that reply in some barely legible girl font, in hot pink, with a background that probably took most of the workday to design. I am not a woman who signs each and every email with
Have a great day!!!
Lulu Godkittenslover
Tourism Resource Specialist
“We don’t stop playing because we get old, we get old because we stop playing!!” Take that with you in your day and you will be a happier person for it! (Smiley face icon. Or two). God Bless!!! Lu
No, I am not that woman.
But the intern who works for me is. Instead of working, she crafts elaborate emails to each and every person she knows—a few of them are even work-related! And they are stupid. So stupid. Aggressively stupid. And if you had to actually try to get this woman to do work things for you without mucking everything up and vacillating wildly between manic and depression…and you know those girls you went to high school with who played a hair-band ballad for their first dance at their first wedding (and who get choked up at Kid Rock songs now. Kid Rock!) and wear WAY too much makeup and currently do hair? And you know that snottyass kinda stupid girl attitude that they emanate from time-to-time? Mmm-hmm, girlfriend. You know it. Well, if you were her boss, you’d grow to hate her, too.
I know this about her emails because 1. I’ve been on the receiving end of a few relatively short ones and 2. I sometimes need to use the computer in the tourism office and, yesterday, she not only left it on, she left herself logged in with her email right there on the screen—on a Friday afternoon before leaving (early of course—she had to renew her ten prescriptions) for the weekend!
Of course, I read some of her emails, er, rather, her letters to her buddies. So annoying and non-work related. And that’s when it hit me that I must blog about these women who share the goopiest sentiments over email in response to email-generated shite.
Yes, it’s true that I’ve never used office email, internet, or time for non-work related things. OK, it’s not true. But here’s the difference: With the exception of maybe a day or so every couple of months, I go in the office and get shit done. In fact, most days I work really hard—skipping lunch sort of hard. She doesn’t. She twits and fritters noisily over a to-do list for a fucking festival—not an important meeting, or a budget review, or a strategic plan. A festival to-do list with things like “make copies of ballots on green paper” and “pick up luminaries from workshop”. And she wants my job! Or for me to give her a job once her contract is finally—finally! hooray!—up in February.
So why am I writing all of this very late at night? Getting myself surprisingly worked up? Because I’m sitting here in bed with my laptop and I figured I should do something with it besides play Tetris. I wouldn’t be playing Tetris if it wasn’t for my mom, who downloaded Tetris and other games onto a memory stick for me, which is exactly like giving a big festive bottle of Bailey’s to a recovering alcoholic. Soon, I’ll have to delete these games from my computer lest I waste even more time.
Bottom line: She annoys me (the intern—not my mom). I’m not giving her a job recommendation let alone a job. You, dear reader, can send me the occasional email tidbit, just keep the prayers to a minimum. Better yet, don’t send it. I promise you I will not return it to the person who sent it to me and I really won’t send it to ten others.
God Bless!!! :-D
posted by lulu | 7:58 AM
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