Serenity Now!

It's bad when your job starts to interfere with your drinking, I mean, social life. I mean, extracurricular activities, I mean. Er. Well. Hm. I'm starting to hate one of my co-workers.

Observe the following email exchange:

Senior Writer Producer (SWP):

"Kath, attached please find my tapelog for the project I'm working on."

Kath: Peon PA (PPA)
"I can't open it. It's not an excel doc. It won't let me in."

SWP:
"It better be a fucking excel document. "

And yesterday's finest email exchange:

SWP:
"Did you get to send the beta stock I requested late yesterday. And, of course my submaster is not here. And no I don't know who has it, and I need it today."

Kath:
"I sent the beta stock yesterday, per my followup email from 4:30pm. Your submaster is and has been at the editing facility where you have been working. Ask Brian for it, Johnny Surly."

And SWP is notorious for passing the buck, from my email folder titled TSFUs:

Kath:
"Here is a revised log for your records. FPA34401 was actually first on the tape and its first airdate is 8/31/05, not 9/12"

SWP:
"Good - thank you for taking care of that and getting it out of my life forever. If Deb would just fill in all the info on the web consistently I wouldn't make such mistakes that you would cause you additional work."


And once again, dear readers, I have to take an emergency dump and that friekin lil Mexican is in there. Sweet fancy Moses.