Hi, so remember when I used to write blog posts?
Me neither, BUT WAIT. Here I am, spending my Sunday afternoon with my laptop burning my legs (I’m not wearing pants), trying to rectify my wrongs with you good people. Although I’m not sure “good people” is the most accurate term, since 98% of our blog traffic is still coming from people searching the internet for pictures and videos of women pooping.
The funny thing is that if you search all the posts on this blog that I’ve written, at least five of them are basically just me apologizing for my extended absences. So I’m not going to do that. In fact, I don’t unnecessarily apologize for anything and you shouldn’t either. Read this post from Apocalypstick and cut it out, okay?
It’s especially difficult not to be a passive-aggressive, excessively-apologizing doormat at work. When you’re a young woman in the early stages of your career it seems like the only way to success is either by kissing ass or showing it off.
Even writing simple emails is a struggle sometimes. Either I feel like I’m coming across like a harsher version of the woman who hosts The Weakest Link:
Get it to me by end of day. Thanks. (Also, as I’m sure you can tell by my use of hard periods, I hate you.)
Or I come across like a desperate and spineless 14-year-old:
Is it possible to get this by the end of the day? If not, totally cool! Either is good! Even though it means I’ll have to do more work that is not my responsibility! Just let me know! ~eXcLaMaTiOn MaRkS!~ Ok, thanks! Happy Friday!
Finally, I settle on something that I hope is the perfect blend between confident, yet kind:
I’ll need it by end of day, please. Thanks!
And then I hate myself because I realize I just spent 20 minutes writing a nine word email. But such is life in the 21st century, where the majority of our human interaction is done in bits and bytes (LOL GET IT? COMPUTERZ.) and our intentions often misinterpreted thanks to irrelevant details such as comma use or period placement. And such is life as a successful woman in her late twenties, learning how to not take shit with a smile.