Your Misery is Not Good Company.

An open letter to the cranky middle-aged weirdo in the office.

Dear CMAW,

I'm sorry you hate your job, your wife, your kids and (from listening to you bitching day in and day out) pretty much everything except fantasy baseball.
We work in a tiny office space so my headphones will not drown out your random yelling outbursts at the aforementioned job, wife, kids etc...
Your misery is now my misery.

Oh wait - actually I'm not sorry.

I need you to please become medicated, quit or find something else that will make you not here.

Oh and if I were you I would also consider tightening the fuck up.

xo -
Brenda

Fantasy Island

Please go to fantasy island to play your pretend sport, o people who feel the need to talk about Fantasy Baseball constantly.
(We will forget for a moment that playing a pretend sport is untight.)

I'm so glad that you have a hobby. I am.
But frankly, it's like listening to someone talk about their imaginary friend for hours ... it's just sad. That said, my pity only extends so far, as the unrelenting conversation about something that DOESN'T EVEN EXIST is making me hate the sport of real baseball and you.

Go play a real sport ... except kickball... and tighten up.

Interns: Know Your Role.

Dearest Interns,

I'm so glad you are here. Welcome. Now kindly shut up and don't talk.
No, I don't want to hear about the student newspaper - nope not about your friends who know someone who knows someone who used to work for Hillary Clinton either. Simple one word answers to polite obligatory questions like "Where do you go to school?" are adequate and frankly preferred in email form.
Why are you still talking?
I hate to be the one to tell you, you have decided to pursue a career in a dying industry, basically like graduating with a degree in 8 track repair.
But if you insist on sticking around,the following things are untight: talking, running through the office to flirt with make co-workers by offering them baked goods - it's not professional and that guy could be your dad, asking me for work to do - if I need you I'll find you, approaching my desk, using the word "passion," talking.


Thanks so much.

xo - Brenda

Fake Laughs ... stop it.

There are days I can handle it and there are days when I seriously wish individuals who habitually insist on fake laughing as a way to mask being uncomfortable would lose the ability to inhale oxygen.
I understand thatsometimes some people get nervous having a normal social interaction with human beings, but a fake giggle that punctuates every sentence is really grating.
Oh and for that matter - if no one laughs at a really not funny joke... fake laughing REALLY LOUD doesn't make it better.

Stop it.

Tighten Up DC! I'm Over You.

Really DC? It has been one hell of a week and you aren't helping anything . So over you... On to bigger and better cities. Tighten the F Up.