Email Like a Boss. Really?

Someone at work shared this image yesterday. Or the day before. It doesn’t matter.

As with most things, I have irrationally strong opinions. But, I have this here blog and it’s been ages since I posted. So, I present my evaluation of “emailing like a boss.” (No offense to @danidonovan. Well, not a lot anyway.)

Late email responses

Don’t do this unless they’ve actually displayed patience. If they haven’t, it just sounds passive-aggressive. While it may be appropriate in some cases, it’s a crappy default response. It eschews knowable sentiments from the sender in favor of assumptions about the recipient. I certainly don’t want to be thanked for patience if I’ve been angrily waiting on someone else. Besides, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with apologizing for keeping someone hanging.

Calendaring

This one’s entirely circumstantial. I mean, if you have a specific time request, fine. But if you’re using it as some sort of Outlook jiu jitsu, well that’s just douchey. I don’t attend a lot of meetings or block out time for tasks. As such, my calendar is pretty open. I’m usually scheduling meetings with people who are far more constrained. So yeah, I want to know what time works for them. I’m not going to imply some sort of preference where one doesn’t exist. Just because my time is flexible, doesn’t mean I don’t value it or expect others to. I hate this one.

You’re welcome

No. Just no. I don’t understand this one at all. At least the others are trying to convey a sense of assertiveness. But this? This is just going for some mealy-mouth, ass-kissing bullshit. Real talk: I am NOT always happy to help. No one is. “No problem” is perfectly acceptable, but if it bothers you for some reason there’s a well-established alternative: go with a fucking “You’re welcome.” And those asshole exclamation points. Ugh. I hate this one more than the last.

Suggestions/Directions

These are both shit. The first is farcically passive, the second can make you sound like a dick. Especially if you’re a dude talking to women (sorry-not-sorry, mansplaining is real). How about “I think we should…” or, if you’re particularly strong in your convictions “We should….” If you’re making a suggestion, own it. But also understand that hey, it’s entirely possible someone else may have a suggestion. One that actually might be the best.

Rewriting

Some people are writers and care. Other people are writers and don’t. Others are talkers. I don’t want to talk. I want to avoid talking at all costs. And just because something is difficult to word does NOT mean it’s automatically better to talk in person. There are a number of scenarios in which an email, even a difficult one to compose, is better. Sometimes you need a record. Sometimes something is sensitive/awkward, and more so in person. Sometimes someone has a thick accent the other person can’t understand. Sometimes people have to email me. Whatever. This is totally a matter of preference and, again, circumstance.

Understanding

Again, entirely dependent on context. If it is something particularly complex, new, or to someone junior, the first suggests the sender knows the reader may not get it and welcomes questions to guide clarification. The second one seems so terse and boilerplate that the reader may not understand the sender is actually expecting followup. Although really, this is a way more legit scenario for that whole “We should talk about this” thing.

Checking in

Oh, lordy. These are two distinct emails. If you need an update, like, now, send the second. But if you haven’t been waiting to hear about something (aka, being patient….) send the first. If you are genuinely checking in, the second is pretty fucking aggressive. As a recipient, I’d assume the sender thinks I’ve dropped the ball.

Errors

That second response sounds so disingenuous. Especially with those damned exclamation points. The first one is okay, but really, what’s wrong with a simple “Ooops – here you go.” While there’s nothing inherently wrong with an apology, small errors don’t require them. And they certainly don’t require “Thanks for letting me know [exclamation point].” 

Schedule change

Yeah, this one I agree with. Except it should just be “I need to leave at _____” – why you’re leaving ain’t none of their damn business.

An American horror story.

I finally got the bill for my first infusion. Okay, that’s not entirely accurate. I’ve had the bill, but Husband finally went through the mail and opened it. Now, I knew the medication would be stupid expensive – estimates were in the $1500-3000 range (ugh, per monthly dose). Those estimates were a tad off.

The line item cost for the drug alone (not the infusion or its related costs, just the drug) was twenty fucking thousand dollars. If your jaw isn’t on the floor, you’re numb to the absurdity of this system.

I mean, I could buy a Jetta for the cost of this stuff. That’s a not-shitty car, every. single. month. For eternity. Add in the cost of actually getting the drug administered, rather than having an expensive liquid paperweight, and we’re talking a monthly Passat. The insurance company getting their knickers in a twist makes a lot more sense now.

Oy vey. This post was supposed to be an amusing commentary about all this, but I can’t stay on this subject without spiraling into an rabid political rant. One that’s too fucking serious to be funny. And I really can’t risk popping a vessel over this; goodness knows how much the resulting surgery would cost.

Rules of Engagement: Public Restrooms

I have a thing with public restrooms. Well, I’m sure most of us do, to some degree, but I’m talking about a set of guiding principles that really should be shared with the world. I’m not entirely sure why, but here we are.

First things first, stall selection. 

Bathroom stalls are like movie theater seats: unless it’s a full show, leave a damn space between. I know there’s a wall, but there’s an intense vulnerability that comes with dropping trou in a public space. We all need as much of a physical/psychological barrier as the situation affords. This extends to choosing a stall in empty restrooms, as well; use a stall that maximizes potential spacing, should other people enter when you’re mid-pee.

Rules for the handicap (Handi-capable? Can we still say “handicap”?) stall depends on where you are: 

·     If you’re out in the wild, it should be the last resort. Better to pee next to someone than take up the special stall. And it’s not a non-option for typically-abled folks, but you know, priority obviously goes to those who need the space, including parents of small children. But don’t you dare call out a stranger for using the big stall, even if they don’t appear to need it. You don’t know them. Don’t be a dick.

·     If you’re in a place where the patrons are predictable, like at work, the calculus changes a bit. If there’s someone in your midst with a chair or walker, the above rules apply. If not, it’s the poop stall. Use it when you gotta poop.

Second, in-stall behavior.

Be normal. No humming. No singing. And for the love of all that is holy, don’t talk on your fucking phone. Or over the stall doors.

On the other hand, please, make a little noise. It’s beyond unnerving when someone in another stall is a silent partner. Nothing says, “I’m weirdly embarrassed about a using a toilet” like utter silence from an occupied stall. We know you’re in there; jiggle the toilet paper roll, clear your throat, SOMETHING. You’re a human, breathe for fuck’s sake. If you’re silent, the assumption is you’re holding in a massive shit and waiting for the person to leave before you bio-bomb the room, which only puts pressure on the person to get in and get out before they become collateral damage.

Leave the stall tidy. It doesn’t matter if you sit or squat – make sure all traces of you are gone: piddle, lady stuff, the seat liner, toilet paper. Knock it in or wipe it up, dammit. And make sure the flush is complete. Like, visually confirm. Don’t be an animal.

Three, wrapping up.

Talking is marginally acceptable outside the stall, but holy shit, unless you’re letting them know the stall they’re entering is out of toilet paper, don’t talk to strangers. Also, let people know if the stall they’re entering is out of toilet paper. Or if their fly is down, they have toilet paper stuck to their shoe, their skirt is tucked into their tights, or a liner is stuck in their waistline. It’s not embarrassing. Not for you, anyway.

Don’t dawdle at the sink, but just getting your hands technically wet isn’t washing them. Neither is putting soap on them, then immediately rinsing it off. Soap is a surfactant, it literally takes time and friction to work. Use it properly. Once your hands are (properly) washed, get the hell out of the way.

 Oh, and if paper towels are available, maybe use them to dry off the front of the sink? It’s a nice thing to do.