|Image via Cranky Birds -- a fabulous blog!|
Here is a sampling of comments that I have actually made -- in writing -- in the past few days . . .
1. Across a spreadsheet that our Girl Scout Council requires of the over-worked cookie mommy volunteers:
This is s stupid form -- and is a duplication of effort. Troops have already provided this information through eBudde; why does this council require this ridiculously awkward form in addition? This is why volunteers flee as fast as they can from working with Girl Scouts. You do it to yourselves!
I thought this tirade was a better idea than asking someone to help me learn how to fill out an Excel spreadsheet.
2. On the feedback page of yet another purveyor of beautiful clothing that my two teenaged girl urchins yearn for:
Dear Free People -- I would be more inclined to purchase your lovely dresses for my lovely daughters if these dresses actually covered their asses. Regards -- Liz
I have sent this note a few times, to various merchants. By the way, props to ModCloth, who brought back the "Longer Lengths" section of their online catalog (I must not be the only person who complained). But Free People -- what the heck? The name they gave the dress pictured above is "Lolita Syndrome." I'm not even kidding.
3. This is actually a groveling email I sent after I was -- let's just say a little testy with the nice pharmacist at CVS:
Dear Kathy -- I wanted to apologize again for losing my temper this morning while trying to find out where the hell my mother-in-law's chemotherapy prescription was. I also deeply appreciate your help in getting the cost of the drug reduced from $8,100 for a 30 day supply to only $1,200 -- even after I implied that you didn't care whether my mother-in-law lived or died. I know you do care whether my mother-in-law lives or dies. I was overwrought. Regards -- Liz
4. Here's my text to my beloved tall boy, when he asked whether I could come fetch him from his college campus in the city for the long Easter weekend or he should wait outside in the rain for the commuter bus that might or might not show up and sit with a bunch of people who might or might not have the flu, and get home well after dinner time after walking that last six blocks in the aforementioned rain: