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A series of letters:
Oct. 24th, 2007 02:22 amDear school,
We're on okay terms, so long as you don't give me any presentations to panic and fuck up, and I pay your fees before November. We're cool, and I like staying that way.
Kisses,
Me.
Dear work,
You are busy as always, a slavedriver, but really, I do enjoy it. I have an companionable cadre of boys to toil with me, all with good senses of humour, wicked high-five skills, and a boss that is both fair and supportive. You rock, really.
I'll come back from my vacation eager and waiting to dive into Christmas. Really. Maybe not eager, but I'll be there and enjoy a lot of it, really.
I'll be over here rubbing my feet, though...
Love,
Me.
Dear mallrats,
You exist. You exist a lot. Fuck, I work here and I can afford to buy less stuff than you.
Sadly, you seem to exist mainly in the categories of overweight and undershaved metal collectors or anime hobbyists that live in their mother's basement and lack in social skills as much as you do subtlety. Seriously... bringing your mom in to pay for five hundred dollars of anime dvds and then whining that you want a video game as well? For fuck's sake, you look to be my age and you're acting worse than half the five your olds that come in here, whom I make thank their parent for their generosity before I even let them carry their treasure out the door.
Also, please stop hitting on me. Just because I know the difference between Naruto and Avatar doesn't mean I'm a soul mate. Just because I set aside a Molly Hatchet cd so you can buy it tomorrow doesn't mean I want to hear the latest chapter in your life story that hasn't really got all that much more exciting since you were in yesterday.
And bathe. Please. You make me cringe.
No love,
Me.
Dear Yuletide,
EEE! Thank you for the challenge that I didn't even think I could meet. Now I can't stay away. My letter to the generous soul writing mine will be coming soon. I need to think through the school and the work and the gibbering.
Chat soon,
Me.
Parent,
We're all working, we're all weary. If we notice that you're being completely uncommunicative and offer if anything is wrong, please meet the example and open the hell up. The alternative is drawing your attention by getting you annoyed or pissed with us so that you even say a word other than 'good morning'. You want to set a better familial example? Then continue what you were doing before last weekend.
Love,
Me.
Dear calendar,
AGH! You need to be made of chocolate. I am making a replacement. Made of chocolate. Possibly Toblerone. How many pieces of chocolate are in a Toblerone? I don't know. As long as it's thirteen. Or less. That'll do.
AGH!
Me.
We're on okay terms, so long as you don't give me any presentations to panic and fuck up, and I pay your fees before November. We're cool, and I like staying that way.
Kisses,
Me.
Dear work,
You are busy as always, a slavedriver, but really, I do enjoy it. I have an companionable cadre of boys to toil with me, all with good senses of humour, wicked high-five skills, and a boss that is both fair and supportive. You rock, really.
I'll come back from my vacation eager and waiting to dive into Christmas. Really. Maybe not eager, but I'll be there and enjoy a lot of it, really.
I'll be over here rubbing my feet, though...
Love,
Me.
Dear mallrats,
You exist. You exist a lot. Fuck, I work here and I can afford to buy less stuff than you.
Sadly, you seem to exist mainly in the categories of overweight and undershaved metal collectors or anime hobbyists that live in their mother's basement and lack in social skills as much as you do subtlety. Seriously... bringing your mom in to pay for five hundred dollars of anime dvds and then whining that you want a video game as well? For fuck's sake, you look to be my age and you're acting worse than half the five your olds that come in here, whom I make thank their parent for their generosity before I even let them carry their treasure out the door.
Also, please stop hitting on me. Just because I know the difference between Naruto and Avatar doesn't mean I'm a soul mate. Just because I set aside a Molly Hatchet cd so you can buy it tomorrow doesn't mean I want to hear the latest chapter in your life story that hasn't really got all that much more exciting since you were in yesterday.
And bathe. Please. You make me cringe.
No love,
Me.
Dear Yuletide,
EEE! Thank you for the challenge that I didn't even think I could meet. Now I can't stay away. My letter to the generous soul writing mine will be coming soon. I need to think through the school and the work and the gibbering.
Chat soon,
Me.
Parent,
We're all working, we're all weary. If we notice that you're being completely uncommunicative and offer if anything is wrong, please meet the example and open the hell up. The alternative is drawing your attention by getting you annoyed or pissed with us so that you even say a word other than 'good morning'. You want to set a better familial example? Then continue what you were doing before last weekend.
Love,
Me.
Dear calendar,
AGH! You need to be made of chocolate. I am making a replacement. Made of chocolate. Possibly Toblerone. How many pieces of chocolate are in a Toblerone? I don't know. As long as it's thirteen. Or less. That'll do.
AGH!
Me.
