A Letter To My Younger Self

Dear 8:00 am Suzette,

It’s me, the 5:00 pm  version of yourself. Here are some things that I have learned over these past 9 hours that might help you. Trust me, I have been there and I know that experience is the best teacher. Sit down, buckle up and take notes.

First of all, stop saying yes to everything. I know it’s slightly more difficult to follow this directive because nobody actually asks you to do things- they just  send an overnight email with a big ! for your immediate action and expect it to get done.

Second, don’t take out your frustrations on the people you depend on.  The dullards and incompetents will drive you crazy and make you want to scream, but scream at them not at your trusted partners. Know that sometimes it will be hard to tell the difference between these two groups. And of course, you are not so much a screamer as a wicked tongue that can burn bridges forever.

Next – brace yourself for this one – know that your job is not your identity. It’s your security and your means of providing food and shelter and you are probably not ever going to be hired for anything else again if you blow this one BUT DON’T LET THAT STOP YOU from acting out your frustration out into live conference calls, ill-advised emails and smart-assed instant messages that are monitored by Big Brother. Who wants to live forever  anyway, amirite? You’ll feel better and that’s what’s important , isn’t it?

Finally  always have a good breakfast. And have it at breakfast time. I know you didn’t eat at all until 2pm today, so do take the time to do it up right. Here’s the breakfast I we had yesterday. It fits all possible definitions  of “good”. But you were there, weren’t you? In fact, you brought the raspberry vinegar didn’t you?

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hot dogs and tater tots

Love from 5:00 pm Suzette

 

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5 thoughts on “A Letter To My Younger Self

  1. Sounds like a bad day. I hope 5:00 PM Suzette found an acceptable martini container. A foot rub would be good as well, and order out if you dare.

  2. Nothing wrong with hot dogs for breakfast. I did it myself quite a few times, as well as salami sandwiches. There’s no law that says breakfast is for breakfast.

  3. You absolutely rock. I’m a bologna sandwich breakfast sort myself. And, since I retire yearend I find my “wicked tongue” flapping a bit more hastily than usual (which is truly difficult) and my level of forbearance below sealevel. And I say, who gives a fuck?

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