Dear Coworkers

Dear Coworkers:

I like parts of all of you. But as a whole, singly and collectively, you irritate the living shit out of me to no end. Here are a few reasons why:

I do not care about the goings-on in your bowels/intestines. All I need to know is that you are not feeling well. Frankly, I don't even care about that unless you are not going to show up for work.

70 degrees is not an acceptable ambient temperature for office workers. It's July 1st - I should not have to wear a sweater to keep from shivering. I do not like being reduced to stealthy hops to the thermostat while you are in the ladies' room but that won't stop me from doing it.

I am weary of the New Age-y piano Musak you evidently need to make it through the day. It is like Chinese water torture to me - plink...plink...plink... Our office should be a democracy, not a dictatorship.

Yes, esteemed upper-middle-aged and senior citizen male professors, there are women who work here. Women whose positions are seen by many as subordinate to your own (even though the people who really get it know that secretaries rule the world). These women, however, are not your wives or mothers. They were not hired to make your coffee or to wash out your cups after you have consumed said coffee. Wash your own damn cup! (And I will refrain from outing you, Dr. R, the one who wipes his powdered-sugar covered fingers on the couch each Wednesday during Donut Hour. Apparently your actual mother never taught you that the world is not one big napkin.)

You may have noticed that we are in an economic slump. The current and looming effects of the slump are often manifested as a look of panic in the eyes of our erstwhile fearless leaders. We have all been asked to do whatever we can to reduce costs. So I ask you, why do you feel the need to turn on EVERY SINGLE LIGHT in the building? The conference room has not been used since last week but you diligently turn on all of the lights each morning. I am curious - is your own home visible from outer space?

It's true, I will be resigning my position in a few weeks. This grumpy missive notwithstanding, I have not yet succumbed to the dreaded short-timer's disease. I ask that you cease and desist attributing my don't give a shit professional demeanor to a sudden lack of concern for my job or the work we do here. My attitude is not any different today than it was 4 years ago. I didn't give a shit then, either have always comported myself professionally and will continue to do so until the last minute hour day week pay period minute I work here.

Ever so sincerely,

Violet