As I muster all my willpower in search for zen, for inner peace and remains of sanity- I will express how much I really enjoy working for the whole gang of fake managers i had pleasure to work for. Not.
1. When I send you email asking for confirmation of instruction- it's not because I have some secret crush on you, neither do I thrive in being uber-polite emails but because I HAVE a JOB to DO. And as I don't interfere in your strategic thinking, implementation of your superimportant project, design and other things that are in your jolly job description. It's because your comment in passing, Chinese whispers or yet another wishful thinking tirade you decided to verbalise does not constitute for a proper instruction that creates audit-worthy trail.
There's really no hidden agenda- I promise.
I ask simple questions and I'm far too busy and simple to play any sick games you might want to turn it into. And yes, if your responses are in bold, red CAPITALS you are on a good trail to score Asshole of the Month award. Oh, cc'ing every man(ager) and his dog does bump your score too, well done.
You won, you sent shirty email and I established your superiority by showing everyone that you utterly lack understanding that there's many cogs to make this corporate machine work.
Next time you show up in my office, I will smile at you oh-so-politely. And you will still smell of shit.
Sent from my iPhone
