F*#*! S*@#! P&%#! C%@&!

Ways to irritate the piss out of me on a Friday afternoon:

Tell me that I should really put the flipcharts on the floor in order to transcribe. No shit Dick Tracy!? You mean to tell me I can't read them when they're draped over the chair? Well fuck me silly...I thought I had x-ray vision.

Ask me if I have called "so and so" 100 101 times. No I haven't. I may be able to get to that in the next decade if you would leave me the fuck alone.

Ask me to stop at the store because the dumpsters upstairs don't have any cookies or chips to throw down their throats, mention the fact that we also need some trash bags and other things, and then give me only $50 so I have to budget in order to get enough to satisfy the dumpsters in addition to the the remaining eight people in the office.

Make me feel like an ass because I don't know the exact date of a scheduled session and "it was on the latest grid." Well, I don't have that grid because you never sent it to me. Oh, but it was on the grid from two weeks ago so I should still feel like a total piece of shit for not paying attention.

Stand at the fax machine and persistently ask me why the confirmation isn't coming as if I know the behaviors of the fax. Ah yes, in my last semester at college we studied the behaviors and tendencies of fax machines of the 21st century. If you gave it half a minute, it'll probably come right through. Wait...what is that? Ah, the confirmation.