Speaking of singing (as we just were, look it up), Nick, soulless music-hater that he is, seems to find the idea of me singing risible. For this, he will be tied to a chair and forced to listen to my “House of the Rising Sun” karaoke.
Dear Supervisor, I will not sign up for overtime as city dispatch in the future if it means I might get switched to Phones 2/County Fire Dispatcher if it storms, kthnxbai.
I’m guessing supervisors are not thrilled to get emails from me anyway, since they tend to contain ill-tempered but useless statements such as, “When I started, phones didn’t suck,” “I refuse to buy only enough food for one day and carry it here in my backpack every day,” etc.
You might think I’m hard to please, but I own a pair of rose-print socks. That’s all it takes.