Category — money honey

Dear Creeper from the Gas Station this morning:

You can look. You can appreciate. Staring slack-jawed and following me to my car? Not cool. I wouldn’t touch you with a 2000 ft. long cattle prod, but someone might be willing if they couldn’t smell you before they saw you.

NOT fondly,

girl in dire need of coffee who does not flirt before noon

Dear Walgreens Pharmacist:

I have taken birth control since I was thirteen. That’s over half of my life. I do not have questions about it. I know you have to ask. You don’t have to apologize for asking, and it isn’t awkward. It’s my body and my medicine, and my health, and if I had a question, I would ask you, even if it was really unpleasant. Obviously, you feel it is awkward to ask me if I have any questions regarding my birth control, and that begs the question…  why do you dispense medication for a living?

Respectfully,

that girl who’s cool with her reproductive organs, like on a first name basis and everything.

Dear He Who Must Be Tolerated and Managed Up:

Seriously, quit trying to engage me in conversation when I am trying to leave for lunch. You’re two hours behind me, and I’m sorry that when you get settled in and ready to pester me, I’m starving and bitchy or not even here, but a girl has to eat (and go to Walgreens). Also, why schedule a call for a two minute conversation easily handled by email? Modern technology- is like it!

Not so respectfully,

The Thorn in Your Side

PS: Unrelated- I need some of your finger clippings for a craft project….

Dear You Know Who You Are*,

Well. We established that you make me crazy in the good way, so it only stands to reason that sooner or later, you were gonna make me crazy in the bad way. I warned you that I was difficult, and you shrugged it off… until last night. I actually feel better about you than I did before all the crazy leaked out my ears, and I almost feel safe in saying that you feel better about me. Well played, my dear.

quite fondly,

The girl who warned you that she idled at difficult

PS:  um, i probably shouldn’t tell you this, but threatening to turn me over your knee when I’m being difficult is probably not the deterrent you think it is….

Dear Daddy,

You know that thing you do where you just send me money for no reason? Now would be an excellent time to do that.

all my love,

your spoiled silly daughter

Dear You Won’t Know Who You Are, Because You’re Too Humble:

I truly enjoy our friendship. You’ve taught me more in a few months than I learned over the last ten years. When the little chat box pops up from you, I grin. Every time.

affectionately,

The girl you keep on the straight and narrow

*We have not declared open season on the blog, so he is not reading here. Yet. I’m spoon feeding him posts, and if he doesn’t run away or vomit them up, then soon. Soon.

Oh, Allen.

I’m sitting here in my cozy little farmhouse, in a southwestern-facing cove at 2900 feet, working on budget reports for the senior management team, having just finished my homework for the next week. I won’t be in my private office complete with mini-fridge and bow-front desk for another two weeks, because when I’m done with jury duty, I’m spending a week in the corporate office to meet with the corporate controller and his senior accountants.

When you found me, I was running a switchboard and surfing the internet. That was only seven years ago. Those two vapid executive assistants were crimping my style. I had no education, nothing but administrative experience, and my future was a dim shadow. You saw something in me, despite the fact that I bratted out on you whenever the opportunity presented itself.

I know that I’ve created and earned my success. I understand that I was the one who did the work. That doesn’t change the fact that you were the first person to see my potential, to see beyond my smartass mouth and youthful exuberance and find the talent and drive that brought me to this place. You’re not the only person to have helped me become what I am, but you were absolutely the first.

The opportunity you fought so hard to give me- and I know what you must have gone through- the patience you showed me, and the interest you took in my education and career- there are times I weep with gratitude when I really stop to think about it.

You’ve always been an incredible friend; a shoulder to cry on, a great source of trusted advice, someone who cared enough to raise my ire if I really needed to hear an unpleasant truth. You are everything a mentor could ever be, and what makes it too precious for words is this simple: all you ever wanted in return was my respect and affection. You have both in spades, sir.

Your sage words of advice; about dying inside, about the work being the bottom line, about dealing with idiots and assholes- I hear these phrases as I am resisting the urge to throw my office phone through the wall. You prepared me for corporate life in a very real and important way. I’m so very proud to tell you that when it comes to office politics, I am now 100% dead inside. It’s a strange and wonderful empty feeling- to know what to say and do to circumnavigate people and problems without really caring much about any of it. I’ve never done heroin, but perhaps this compares.  I throw the elephant as a parlor trick now, and you laid the foundation for it.

We’ve kept in touch, and that means the world to me. I miss working with you still, after all these years.

I take great comfort in knowing that you’ve found a wonderful woman to share your life with, and that you’ve brought an incredible child into the world. For a human being to miss out on the chance to have you as a father would be a bigger tragedy than I could swallow. You’ve been a father figure to me, and I’m a much better person for your interest in my mind, my heart, and even and especially, my soul.