I see that it would be nice to let colleagues all over the country know of the passing of someone with whom he/she may have worked over the years. Quite courteous, really. But nobody can leave the initial announcement alone. You end up with the inevitable �I met Tom once twenty years ago at a conference in Munich. He had the largest belly and jolliest laugh of anyone I know. The way he drooled was so sweet. I�ll never forget him.� And worse.
I think maybe responding privately to the person making the announcement might be the best option. Once the responses start rolling, everyone feels inclined to add her own comment, so as not to feel left out.
It�s happening this week on a work-related list. Not quite as shocking as last fall when a former professor at my alma mater passed on, and I had an inside source for the departmental comments. Oh, academics. Sigh. Never ones to let dead dogs lie.
I�ll have you know I�m using a lap robe today. I feel approximately eighty and very daft, due to both the lap robe and the fact that I�m attempting to learn to create zip files and ftp them to someone. I�m young and with it, right? Why is it all so foreign and confusing?
If I had this, it would probably do everything for me.
And in the end, I went to an evil chain store, purchased inexpensive CDs, and will have to copy the files and send the disk via USPS. I dunno what I�m doing.
Today�s the sort of day I just want to curl up in the corner, to finish a book and to not have to speak to anyone. But I�ve been very helpful and friendly today, even when a coworker wanted help copying and pasting in Word when I was on my lunch break. Now there�s patience.
I need a new Road Toad. Sigh.
This morning I had a lovely ride in the rain. Perfect sort of day to do a little mid-year self-evaluation. I think things are going okay. Maybe more on that later, maybe not.
I do, however, feel wretched every time I open my e-mail and find an e-mail message about what I can do to stop the violence in the world, etc. Once I did follow through and sent a generic e-mail to my congressman (who I believe has syphilis), who sent a generic postcard back to me. I didn�t feel much was accomplished there. And I�m frankly often too tired to wash dishes once a week�how can I muster the energy for such a thankless task? Do you see? Are you judging me?
I�ll make you a peach pie if you promise not to judge.