An open letter to my coworkers:
We have one of the best jobs on earth. Sure, it's boring, and you're completely unappreciated. Sure, you generally feel like you're bound by the silliest rules ever devised by mankind. But seriously. No one else will pay you what you're making with that silly B.S. degree - you'd have to get a Masters, if not a Ph.D. No one will give you sick time and vacation time, and personal days and 13 paid holidays a year. No one will (more or less) let you manage your own workload, imposing very few deadlines. No other workplace will allow you to spend 3 to 4 hours a day EVERY DAY chatting with your coworkers. So, please, before I completely lose my mind, STOP WHINING! It's not that bad. It would not be better somewhere else, but if you're interested in finding out please do so as quickly as possible. But, if you must stay, could you at least manage to do your job properly, so as not to screw up my work? It's not really that difficult. Read a little, ask a question or two. Follow the rules. They tried to idiot-proof everything, but you are clearly superidiots, as you manage to miss the most obvious things. But, if I were the one to make these mistakes, you'd all be the first ones in the manager's office, accusing me of sabotaging you.
In closing, spare me. Spare me your personal traumas. Spare me your whining about how you just can't work under these conditions. Spare me your pseudo moral outrage - I've seen your black souls and you have no morals. Spare me.
As a follow-up to yesterday's post, DD's musical interest is ever expanding. She loves the Smashing Pumpkins - not their music, per se (I'm not actually sure that she knows that they are musicians). Every time they are mentioned on the radio (which is frequently, since they're coming to town soon), she repeats Smashing Pumpkins and laughs and laughs. I guess she just likes the name.