Oh, I had a gratifying experience with Work Nemesis today. I get this email saying, "Where is X Event happening? It's urgent." Now, I know for a fact that I have told her where, and I got the information off an email that was originally sent to her. So, she sends this email to me and two of her own coworkers, so I wait to see what the coworkers do. One writes back saying, the information that Third Coworker gave us is Y. With a return receipt, which cracked me up -- next time Work Nemesis asks the same question, now she has evidence that she has the answer already.
It is kind of sad how small-minded I am sometimes.
Oh, in that kind of situation I always reforward the email I sent them originally. I am very much not above that.
I'm pretty sure we've all been cutting and pasting from the original email, but not actually forwarding. Next time! (There will be a next time.)
I totally reforward too, Brenda. With "as noted" in the text varying in degree with who she added on the recipient list.
Life, be easier! And a lot nicer!
What she said!
I'm sorry, Sue. It is so very hard.
I too reforward. I'm bitchy like that. And lazy.
4 nights without parents. And as much as I chafed with them underfoot... I miss'em. Miss the company (even as I was EXHAUSTED by it.) I wish there were a more happy, closer medium. Like, not 2000 miles.
I wonder, when they get feeble, who will want to move. They've a community there. Their kids don't. What gives? Shit, getting maudlin again.
Yeah, it was Hot Guy.
He was picking his GF up at the airport today. I told him he's gotta be there w/flowers. Hasn't seen her in a month. He didn't really get it, and then suddenly wanted to be the guy waiting there with the flowers and got all panicky about not having time to get them due to project deadlines. So I picked up a small bouquet of roses in various shades of lavender. It was simple and pretty and sweet-smelling.
I told him that it's terribly endearing to arrive after a five hour flight to a guy with fresh flowers in hand, and also, there's the audience factor of "awww, that's my man right there with the flowers for me. That's right. You're all jealous."
So about an hour after her left to get her, I get a text from him: "You were so right about being the guy with the flowers waiting at the gate. Chicks keep smiling at me!"
So, you know, it's not like I'm not romantic.
But I wonder if he bothered to ask the GF's dad for permission before he started boning her, you know? I mean, srsly.
But I wonder if he bothered to ask the GF's dad for permission before he started boning her, you know? I mean, srsly.
That's what *I* always want to ask!
"Sure, but did you call him an ask permission the first time you "did it"? Because really, that's pretty much what your lovely tradition is about. "Do I have permision to deflower your daughter?"
Oh oh, and the whole flower thing reminded me about my nephew at South Station when he was super wee, but walking and talking.
We were waiting for my mom and dad to take the train home together after a long adventure at the Children's Museum, and I asked him if he'd like to buy some pretty flowers for his Grammie.
He tried to buy an entire bucket of yellow roses, but I talked him down to a bunch.
While we were standing waiting for her, people kept walking by and pointing and smiling at the cute little boy waiting at the station with flowers. He got a few "awwwww!"s.
And of course Grammie was thrilled.
