Dear Co-Worker

Are we having fun yet? No. Definately not.

Why?

Because you are a blithering idiot.

I created a request form for you to use this fall. I sent it to you with explicit instructions in July. I sent it again in August and told you to start using it. You call me in September... what form? I re-send it to you. Oh... that's what that was. Yes.

Now you send it to me by e-mail. Fine. I no more than start processing the job when you send me the same information by fax. Oh, no, wait a minute - you've asked for different things. Hmmm... Not only that, but the form is incomplete. I can tell you rushed through it, leaving off many pieces of information I need to process this job. Remember? This is the stuff I ask you every time you call (for the last five years)? Now you get to fill it out yourself instead of me asking, you standing there with your thumb up your butt, and having to make me look it up - wasting more of the precious time that you seem to fill up nicely with menial repetative tasks.

Now, don't take this wrong, but I understand you're a man. Men hate these kinds of things. That's what they think God put women on the planet for. That's what your wife is for. She likes to do things for you so you don't have to strain that brilliant mind. Wouldn't want you to be too tired out to hold up that remote tonight, would we?

I'm not your wife. I'm not your servant. I'm certainly not your underling. Now get off your ass and do it right the first time, please.

Looking forward to winter.