To Whom It May Concern: Sucking Rocks Edition

Dear October 2009:

I'm starting to think you're seriously messing with my mind. Parts of you are rocking, and other parts are SERIOUSLY SUCKING. I keep getting jerked around from one extreme to the other, sometimes within the space of an hour.

Would you please make up your mind? And maybe be nicer to the people I love? Because it hurts to see them hurting.

Begging for Mercy,
An Avid Autumn Fan

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Dear Mystery Coworker Who Placed a Platter of Dark Chocolate Cupcakes/Muffins with Chocolate Chips and Vanilla Custard Swirls on the Lunch Table:

You rock. You rock hardcore. How did you know I needed chocolate today? And that the cupcake/muffin maneuvre would be exactly right? If I knew who you were, I would contemplate kissing your feet. Or grading some papers for you. Or at least giving you a Really Big Hug.

Slavishly Yours,
A Chocoholic Coworker

P.S. I may or may not have eaten more than my fair share of the treats. Please don't count the wrappers in my trash can.

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Dear Windows XP and Windows Explorer:

You suck. Hardcore. For the last three days I have been fighting you tooth and nail to let me do the stuff I need to do without you crawling along like a snail with serious ADD. Or crashing and closing me out of all my web-based applications, which just makes my day full of sunshine and champagne, let me tell you. You just told me that you needed to run updates, so I spent ten minutes staring at the screen as you crawled along in updating whatever it is you needed to update. Hell if I know, since you didn't inform me.

If this doesn't help, I may start looking at the Macs in the Apple store with a little more lust and less disdain.

Considering Throwing Rocks,
An (Almost) Formerly Faithful and Fantastically Frustrated End-User

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Dear Arby:

So you want to challenge us to a contest, do you? One that requires us to be On Top of Things and read your blog as soon as you post and spot the wreathe in the pictures and be the first/second/third to email you so we can win the absolutely rockin' jewelry The Boss crafted?

I'm divided on whether you rock or suck. On the one hand, you're providing some entertainment and spicing up our lives. And the prize is actually awesome. So you rock. On the other hand, those of us who can't spend every hour of the day hovering over the computer or may be stuck in some location without Internet access at all are Screwed. So you suck.

We'll see what I think at the end of this competition. It totally depends on how I do, just so you know.

Yours in both Anticipation and Apprehension,
TeacherMommy

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Dear Best Friend's Former Employer:

You suck. You suck so hard that I think your brain (could a corporation have one) would ooze out of your hypothetical nose from the vacuum pressure.

Don't you know that she poured herself into that job? Don't you remember all the accolades and praise you heaped onto her? Don't you know how much she genuinely CARED about what she did for you?

Don't you know she needs that salary and that insurance? Don't you know she has a three-year-old child, for pity's sake?

Don't you realize that when you suddenly fire someone, you should at least pay that person the courtesy of explaining WHY, even if you do have that stupid "At Will" policy allowing you to weasel out of doing so?

I hope you realize that you are the ones who are losing in the long run. She was one of the best and hardest workers you had in your arsenal, and you're tossing her away.

You suck. I hope it hurts.

With Disdain and Raw Anger,
A Seriously Pissed-Off Friend

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Dear Former Student Who Drove Me Batty When You Were Here:

You rock. At least, you do now. You're living proof that my policy of kicking asses and taking names with punks and weasels is the right one. I gave you a hard time while you were here, in all three classes when I had you. I called you out on all your smooth-talking and privilege-abuse. I wouldn't cut you slack for not doing your work and living up to your potential.

And yesterday you walked into my classroom, visiting from college where you're pulling As and Bs, and told me you want to be a writer and it's all thanks to me.

Do you know how much it means to be told I inspired you to be more than you were, to write, to explore possibilities outside football alone?

Thank you for making my day that much brighter. I needed that.

With Pride in Who You Are Becoming,
Your English Teacher

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Dear People in Tennessee or Wherever Who Control Our Building Temperature From Afar:

You suck. I know it's probably a balmy 70 or 80 degrees down where you are, but Autumn is heading treacherously into Winter up here, and it's all of 42 degrees outside. That's Fahrenheit, in case you're a Canadien or European transplant and are confused.

This means that your current idea that we need Air Conditioning instead of Heat is turning our classrooms into giant refrigerators. Here's a clue: when the tips of my fingers and nose are turning blue and numb, YOU NEED TO TURN UP THE HEAT.

If I die of hypothermia, I am so haunting you from beyond the grave. Let's see how you like it when I use my ectoplasmic being to suck all your heat energy from your environment.

In Need of an Electric Blanket,
An Irritated Building Inhabitant

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Dear Silver Heels:

You rock.

That is all.

With Adoration,
The Person Who Wears You With Pride