After the Evil Email Incident of last month, I foolishly thought I had met my quota for trouble gettingintoness. (Laugh along with me, dear reader.)
Yesterday I got a crotchety email on the same subject (and I thought I had trouble letting things go!), not from a colleague—but from the second-in-command. (The first-in-command, whom I had seen just the day before, had just told me what a nice job I’m doing on the organization’s publication. Good thing I had that to buffer me, eh?) Most of the crotchetiness appears to have stemmed from a meeting attended by the third-in-command, who drives me mad and was seriously irked that I had not jumped into my dancing shoes the minute she decided to start piping.
The original Evil Email Incident made me so mad my fingers shook. (Which prevented me from shooting off an equally snarky defense, so that was probably a good thing.)
Yesterday’s email just made me chuckle and shake my head. After all, when you’re in trouble that deep, you kind of build up a tolerance to it, you know? I mean, why bother getting all worked up about it?
So watch out, world. Now that I am feeling so at home in Trouble, there is no telling what mischief I will get up to.
And an added bonus: if I have to put up with all this crap, you should see what my MC is going to have to go through! I have never been a fan of conflict—which generally leads to peace (with the potential for ulcers) in real life, but to somewhat-less-than-thrilling plots in fiction. Well, those days are over! No more Ms. Nice Author! Bring on the firing squad and the natural disasters and the stupid teenage boys—and watch my MC taken them all down!