Bosses, Managers, Supervisors (Pt. 1)

Dear Bosses of the World,

Could you all step into my office for a minute? Thaaaaanks...

It has come to my attention, and the attention of thousands (plus or minus a few million) of other employees around the country, that you are getting really close to "intolerable". Whether it's your need to micromanage your staff, or your severely misplaced distrust of their capabilities, we are starting to notice a disturbing trend. We are confused. We are not pleased.

The last I checked, the following apply to you:
1. You get paid more than we do.
2. You (should have) more responsibility than your subordinates.
3. You agreed to abide by the same Employment Handbook that your employees did.
4. You should be a motivator to your employees, not a stumbling block.
5. You're human, like us. We hope.

I fail, then, to understand why your modus operandi is so different from ours. Is the exponentially higher pay scale that the company forks out for your "intellectual property" not a tidy enough sum for you? Are you out to prove that, yes, there is a "wrong side of the bed" and yes, you CAN wake up on it every single day?

However, since I am a hard working, committed, team-player of an employee, I have brainstormed a (brief) list of solutions.

1. Stop bitching about your salaries in order to be "on the same level" as your staff, unless you want us to mug you and take your "pitifully small" checkbooks.
(This is simple, Oh Commanders of the Cubicle, and will make for a happier team of workers who are less prone to key your Mercedes in the garage. Chances are, we know what you bring home on an annual basis... knowing you, you've probably blabbed about it on the phone to your significant other at a high volume so that we would just "happen" to hear the figure six or seven times. Are we supposed to be impressed, or feel sorry for you? When you try to commiserate with your employees over how little they are making in relation to their perceived worth and contributions, you don't come across as "one of the team" or "on the same level"... you come across as an "douche-waffle" who drives a freaking Mercedes SLR McLaren as your commuter vehicle.)

2. Stop delegating YOUR duties to your subordinates before we decide to rise up and eliminate your position altogether.
(See... this is the problem: Your employees already have enough on their plates without you cherry-picking your own tasks and dumping the rest of the steaming mass on their desks. Did you not get the memo about being replaceable?)

3. Stop bending the rules to fit your desires, unless you're also willing to grant an extra three weeks' vacation to everyone else.
(Whether you're playing FarmVille online, checking your stock purchases, or planning your next family trip to Disneyworld, chances are you're breaking the rules. We, your Employees of Inestimably Great Worth, don't care. We just want to be allowed the same privileges. What makes you all so special that you get to surf the web, file your toenails, or chat with your spouse while texting your side-action and we can't?)

4. Stop looking at, buying, displaying, and believing in those god-awful 'motivational posters' before we use them to cut you with... or start putting up our own.

(Is it really so hard to support your staff? Why else would you resort to posting a "Hang In There, Baby!" poster on your (perpetually closed) office door? Instead, try setting team goals, having a random 'pizza Friday' (which you pay for, not us), or even sending a quick "Thank you for making me look competent" email every once in a while. That instills a greater sense of workplace loyalty than that $3.99 poster ever could... and it isn't nearly as tacky or off-putting to our customers/visitors.)

5. Stop acting like you are infallible, or else we will stop supporting your delusions and you will find yourself naked in a world of hurt.
(Your WoW characters might be the most badass Rogue-Warlock-Mage-thingy ever, but you, Dear Incompetent Idiots in Charge, are not. You guys screw up the system more often than you facilitate progress, and even then make excuses for your lack of ability. The only reason we allow you to stay in power like we do is because we have no desire to lead for fear that your position is actually a curse, but that's a theory we're willing to test if you all don't slow down and listen to your workers. We're the ones in the trenches, carrying out your commands, meeting your objectives, and making your money. Listening to your breadwinners may be the smartest thing you've done since successfully emerging from the womb.)

All-in-all, I'd say this was a very therapeutic letter. I was able to get things off my chest and, if you were to read this, you would (of course) take all of my suggestions to heart and magically transform yourself into the Less Annoying A.S.S.H.O.L.E.s (Arrogant Supervisors Stressing Honest Over-worked Laborers Endlessly) that I know you have inside of you.

Sincerely, I know it takes a lot to run a company. Whether you are a manager of a chain store or a CEO of a corporation, a lot seems to rest on your shoulders with more being added every day. What I have said in this letter isn't (entirely) meant to bash you down (well... yeah, it is), but instead, to point you towards a better vision of Boss-Employee relations.

Now, stop peering down my shirt during staff meetings or I swear that I will staple your man-parts to your leg.

See you at the water cooler,

Krystal

Things That Go... Crash.

Dear Operators of Motorized Vehicles ,

In a world where technology abounds, literature is engrossing, and applying ones makeup takes more time than can be scrounged before leaving the house, our vehicles seem to have become the 'catch-all' of our lives. Swerving by me in countless numbers, you astound me with the amount of circuitry protruding from your ears, newspapers and/or novels in your hands, and double cheeseburgers hanging from your mouths. Where do you find the attention or, rather, the ability to drive?

Oh, wait. You don't.

Guess what the green light means? (Here's a hint, it doesn't mean "adjust your cleavage", "update your Facebook status", or "stir another pack of sugar into your coffee".)

The following is a list of things that, to the best of my knowledge, apply to you and the Wonderful World of Driving:

1. Double-parking is fine... if you are driving a hearse.
2. "SUV" does not equal "Compact", nor does your "lack of brains" equal "handicapped".
3. You are not part-vulture.
4. Cutesy decals on your rear window is grounds for a rear-ending, "Baby on Board" or not.
5. Just because something looks funny (like, oh, a Roundabout), it doesn't mean that all bets are off.

I fail, then, to understand how things could have gotten so out-of-hand. Didn't we all have to take the same drivers' test? Shouldn't we be looking out for each other on this, the great Road of Life, instead of throwing back another coffee, flipping the bird, and playing I-5 bumper cars?

However, since I have pledged to forever don my Seat-belt of Safety, I have brainstormed a (brief) list of solutions for you, Oh Operator of the Auto.

1. I don't care how nice your new ride is; keep it inside ONE parking space.
(I know what it's like to be in a hurry, I do; you overslept, your child is crying, there was a line of DMV-proportions at the drive-through Starbucks, and now your boss is calling, demanding that you pick up 10 boxes of toner for GodKnowsWhatCrazyProject... but parking your car in a dead straddle over the dividing line of two parking spaces? Not cool. The excuse of "Oh, I wasn't paying attention!" isn't very reassuring, either. I'm supposed to feel okay with that? Logic leads me to think that you probably "weren't paying attention" for the majority of your drive. *shudder* Oh, and I'm ever so happy that you have the funds to purchase and drive a Spyder convertible... but slanting your car across two slots just so no one dings your precious Penis Compensator? Sooooo not acceptable. Whenever I see an expensive car deliberately double-parked like that, my hands start twitching and making their way to the keys in my purse, almost begging me to write a nice "Hello, Douche-waffle" note on your door. Which leads me to...)

2. Stop thinking that the rules of parking don't apply to you.
(Yes... I know, Dear Driver, this point coincides rather closely with the previous, but you do know the reason for that, don't you? I can't take any more of this double-standard crap whilst on the road! It's enough that I had to live with it during my childhood... *cough*... anyway, I do not need it from you! I am an SUV-driver. I have a 2002 Saturn Vue that, while it may be labeled as a 'mid-sized SUV' and could, theoretically, fit into a compact space, I park in spaces that will not cause direct or indirect damage to those I have parked next to, or whom may choose to park next to me. It goes beyond common courtesy, m'dear... it's THE LAW. Those pretty markings on the ground aren't decorations meant to enhance the color of your pretty BMW - no, those are words... words that say "Compact Only". Oh, and just so we're clear, parking in a handicapped spot because you're "just going to be a minute", don't feel well, or are too stupid to read the sign isn't an excuse, either.)

3. Stop circling the parking lot like a bird about to dive.
(I know you really, really want that primo spot by the front of the store, but you're holding up fifteen other cars who don't have the maneuverability to get around you while you sit there with your hazards on. Believe me, honey; the only hazard here is that you sit there, pretending not to notice the backup, while gulping down your second quad-grande extra caramel Caramel Frappucino of the day. Your ass could use a little exercise - park a few rows back.)

4. ENOUGH with the stick-figure-families, already.
(Why, my Commuting Cutie, do you feel the need to cover your rear window in cheesy stickers that tell everyone everything about your family? Don't you already do this on Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, etc...? Before you know it, your car will look like this, and I'll be forced to kill you to save my own sanity.
A couple of witty stickers or decals? Totally fine.
(I have one that talks about tattooed moms on the PTA. Gets a laugh every time.)
Row after row of "Baby on Board", "Save a horse, ride a cowboy", "Cowgirl up!", "The Hansen Family", and a sticker from every single concert you've seen...? Nutty.)

4. Just because a traffic function is idiotic, doesn't mean you get to ignore it.
(Sweet Steerer of my Soul, pay attention here. Roundabouts are the Department of Transportation's way of making sure you're paying attention... and then eating your soul if you are not. As my good friend Kim said, "(Roundabouts are) possibly the biggest waste of tax dollars ever because people are too retarded to figure out how to use them. Traffic lights are simple. Red means stop. Green means go. Yellow means floor it. Very simple. At the roundabout, people can't drive because they're too busy trying to decipher the heiroglyphics on the signs to see which lane they're supposed to be in. RE-TAR-DED." I will be the first (er, second) to say that these Whirly-Swirley Cycles of Death are about the stupidest traffic-control creation since crossing guards, but the fact is that they are here, and we have to live with them. Just because they look kind of fun and make you think back to doing donuts in the parking lot does not mean you can just catapult yourself into the intersection (which, yes, is exactly what this is) and think that you'll be fine. Maybe.)

All-in-all, I'd say this was a very therapeutic letter. I was able to get things off my chest and, if you were to read this, you would (of course) take all of my suggestions to heart and magically transform yourself into the Glowing Example of Driver Safety that I know you have inside of you.

I know you're busy. I know you're stressed, you're tired, and you are most likely over-worked. I can understand how the brain can switch to auto-pilot when you start to do a familiar task such as driving; it's something that most of us have done since our teenage years. Just remember that driving safely and parking responsibly isn't just for you... it's for everyone else on the road, feeling just as stressed, tired, and over-worked as you are.

Like me, the girl with the really, really good aim... looking for just one more reason to get her concealed weapons permit.

Honk if you love kitties,

Krystal

Evils of the Interwebs

Dear Social Networking Sites and Various Applications,

You have hooked me. You have hooked me, and I didn't even know I was being hooked. Now, unfortunately, I feel rather 'hooker'-ish, as I have so many johns, er, sites to keep track of, update, post on, and respond to a the beep of the pager, er, message notification. When did our relationship become so very, very complicated? What used to be a mutual understanding now seems like a one-sided arrangement and, believe me, E-PhoneChatFaceBlogGoogleE-list, it is time for some relationship counseling.

The last I checked, the following apply to you:
1. You exist for enjoyment.
2. Networking is encouraged.
3. Apps are for fun.

I fail, then, to understand why the I feel the vein on the left side of my temple start to spasm every time a new alert lands in my Inbox. Why are you intimidating me??

However, since I am a committed partner, I have brainstormed a (brief) list of solutions.

1. Stop stressing me out.
(Sure, I am - supposedly - in control of what content I see... how often I see it... yada yada yada. But that's like telling a fat kid that they're in control of what the put in their mouth; true, but ultimately inconvenient. I am a card-carrying member of the "microwave generation" who expects things to happen now, now, now, and who also likes to cram as much into that little microwave as possible. By having the ability to update a status from my iPhone on not one but three apps, receive e-mail notifications every time a "friend" posts/likes/unlikes/updates/pees, and sending me automated reminders when I haven't fed my pet dragon for over 90 days (I'm so sorry, Kindling... Mommy still loves you), I'm starting to feel smothered. This co-dependency thing has got to stop.)

2. Enable a 'beer goggles' feature.
(Nothing says "I'm professional, trust me with your business" like a 2:00 a.m. picture post of you throwing back your seventh shot of tequila, wearing that dress you always say makes you look like a hooker. Sure, there are different sites for professional networking vs. social networking... but when you've linked the two sites to automatically update each other...? Doesn't help. Since I want us to foster a healthy, balanced relationship, Oh Social Networking Sites and Various Applications, I am asking you to meet me half-way here; come up with some kind of feature that will block me from posting something insanely stupid and/or incriminating at oh-dark-thirty or after x-amount of adult beverages.)

3. Chill. The hell. Out.
(Vampire Wars... FarmVille... Mob Wars... Music Pet... Happy Island... Bejeweled... My Five... enough already! To each their own, yes, but you're creating some insanely scary Super Gamers who plague my Inbox with their impassioned messages of clan battles, "he-said/she-said" drama, and ramblings about their numerous hemorrhoids. Don't need it. I play Vampire Wars on occasion (OMG - Add me to your clan!!!! Assassin "(HW) Tempia" Level 64 Noble Vampire!!!!!), when I need a break from dealing with real people, or when I feel like breaking real people... not as a substitute for real life. Why would you allow such people to bond with you, E-PhoneChatFaceBlogGoogleE-list? It's like you have sprung from our bed of normalcy into their dungeon of depravity... and I just don't know what that means for us. Can our relationship recover? Should it recover? I don't know. I. Just. Don't. Know.)

All-in-all, I'd say this was a very therapeutic letter. I was able to get things off my chest and, if you were to read this, you would (of course) take all of my suggestions to heart and magically transform yourself into the Not So All-Encompassing Time Wasting Distraction from Heaven that I know you have inside of you.

I have nothing 'meaningful' to say this time. There's no point; social networking sites aren't meant to be meaningful, and those who believe otherwise are likely a little off. Yes, I'm being extremely judgemental when I say this, but I get to say it because I know the difference between a Friend Request and a real, human friend. Instead of relying on automated update messages, beeps, and other alerts, I know how to pick up the phone and send someone a good, old fashioned text message (telling them, in 50 characters or less, how much I love, appreciate, and want to see them).

OMG... I wonder how many views this is going to get...

*Poke* (your turn),

Krystal