Why I Like Working With Clients Online!

I have a deadline a very dire deadline that put the “dead” in deadline and you’re standing there, and you’re asking me a grammar question, except you’re not really asking me a grammar question, instead you’re asking me, “Can I do your job for a minute ‘cause I’m really bored with mine?” and you’re questioning how I edited that thing you wrote but you don’t really give a fuck about that you’re just very bored and you’re kind of in the mood to fondly reminisce about your seventh grade English/language arts teacher, Mrs. Greenbottom...

...and boy she was a tough one and you learned a lot from her and you will never forget this one thing that she taught you that you are saying I have edited incorrectly in that thing that you wrote and you want to tell me about the important grammar—and well, life—lessons taught to you by Mrs. Greenbottom who I pity deeply because clearly although she tried to teach you these lessons she failed, oh Mrs. Greenbottom you failed spectacularly, because this thing that you wrote that I just edited for you sucks it just sucks and it was hell to edit and now you’re oh lord you’re sitting down and snuggling cozily into your argument really cuddling up in your argument and telling me why I am wrong and you are right because you know if you go back to your office right now you’ll need to do your own work and that’s the last thing you want to do...

...and now dear lord you’re settling back into that chair and taking a sip of your coffee and you’re saying, “You know, Mrs. Greenbottom was HOT she was really the HOTTEST seventh grade teacher in the school” and please no you just casually crossed your legs in the guy way—left leg bent at ninety degrees right ankle resting just above the left knee, your socks have flying alarm clocks on them—and you’re going to be here all day talking about Mrs. Greenbottom and the forbidden love between the two of you and the many golden moments you spent reading grammar books nestled between her naked breasts and that is how you KNOW that my edit is incorrect although you would NOT tell me how to do my job oh no you would NOT tell me how to do my job although you just did and you are continuing to do so...

...and you are looking at me and I am smiling at you and there are sympathetic dimples being shown and I am nodding and I appear to be agreeing with you because this is the face that I have when someone with flying alarm clocks on their socks is vacation day camping in my office when I have a dire deadline and I am fairly confident that soon you will set up a little tent covered with posters of Mrs. Greenbottom and you will sit there in your Greenbottom Shrine reading grammar books and toasting wienies over a small fire that you will start in my under-the-desk wastebasket...

...so you’ve made me do it you’ve made me do the thing I hate to do now I am taking the No One Can Argue With This Reputable Style Guide down from my Resource Shelf of Last Resort and I am browsing through the index, smiling and nodding as you tell me that Mrs. Greenbottom’s first name was Nancy and she asked all of you to call her Nancy unlike the other, cronelike seventh grade English/Language Arts teachers, and I am finding the correct rule and just as you start to tell me about the outfit Mrs. Greenbottom wore on the first day of seventh grade—that would be pink suede mini skirt, floral blouse, pink suede vest, and patent leather thigh-high stiletto-heel boots, and I’m not buying the boots even in the 1970s cool chick seventh grade English/Language Arts teachers did not wear thigh-high stiletto-heel boots—I point out the correct rule on page 740 which is VERY DIFFERENT from what you have been saying and I say hey I’m really sorry I need to get to work on this project that’s due in nine minutes here’s the rule...

...and you get up very slowly and you look down at the book wishing that you were looking at the book between the naked breasts of Mrs. Greenbottom and you say, “Yeah. That’s what I’ve been telling you.”

*When I'm off-duty I like to ignore grammar, thus the giddy stream of words, unchecked by periods and colons of the semi sort. Sorry if it makes ya crazy!
**And I changed this post-posting because the giddy stream of words made ME crazy.