Based on this post (↑), could she have looked at your latest email instructions, saw a block that looked similar to a previous block of text with the alternate instructions, got it into her head that it said what the other email(s) had said, and all communications from her since have been based on that inappropriately-made leap?
Well, my sun-protective clothing arrived, so I can finally go outside now.
I got all white stuff, because I thought, you know, white = cool and reflective.
So now I can walk about town on hot summer days… looking like a beekeeper. It’s taking me back to my days in high school band camp, god, yes, high school band camp, where I was Queen Dork in a ridiculous camouflage hat and gloves all summer long. I am so looking forward to entering this new era of dorkery.
Hell, I don’t know. She’s been using style A as the default for the entire time she’s been with us. She got a job for customer XYZ that needs style B, but she used style A. She was told that, in the future, she needs to use style B for customer XYZ. For some reason, she’s incapable of understanding the “for customer XYZ” part and keeps thinking we’re just saying “use style B,” no matter how many different ways I try to explain it to her. She might have thought the current job in question was for customer XYZ, even though I told her twice it wasn’t.
Maybe it all makes sense to her. Maybe shooting a cop made sense to the idiot mentioned upthread.
Dear Mom,
You are a selfish, selfish human being and should be ashamed of yourself. I know I am. My sister called you yesterday to tell you that she may not be able to come to your house for the weekend because she’s in the midst of a miscarriage of a baby you did not know she was pregnant with because she didn’t want to deal with you. The only reason she told you was because she felt obligated to do so instead of telling you that she just didn’t feel like coming.
And what did you do? Instead of supporting her when she needed it most, you flipped out, got completely hysterical, crying and yelling, “Oh, God, I’m devastated! I just can’t deal with it now.” Then you had the gall to call me, sobbing, talking about how your grandchild was taken away from you.
Well, guess what? You’re not dealing with it now. Your child is. Remember, your eldest daughter - the one who’s been carrying her husband for two and a half years until he finally got a job, has gone through multiple layoffs and has pined for the time she could finally start a family only to have it taken away? - is going through this. Or perhpaps you don’t recall last Christmas - she was holding my baby daughter and sobbing because she didn’t know when she could have one of her own. Man up and act like a fucking parent for once in your life. This isn’t about you. Parenting means that you have to hold it together when your children need to fall apart.
Your daughter is devastated. And you just added to her misery because she had to comfort you when she needed your support the most. So, no, I will not apologize for getting mad at you when I spoke to you yesterday. I will instead reiterate that you need to shut the fuck up and stop crying long enough to tell your daughter that everything will be okay. That you know that telling her that this happens often doesn’t make things better, but that you’re here for her whatever she decides to do and when she and her husband want to try again. She doesn’t need some hysterical drama queen who makes everyone else’s tragedy hers.
Oh, and a bonus fuck you for telling me that I’m cold and heartless because I’m not crying. First, my sister needs a shoulder to cry on. She can’t do that if I’m upset, too. Second, when you called, it wasn’t even certain she would miscarry (unfortunately, now it’s evident that that is likely what is happening now). Third, I don’t have to cry to care. Take you, for example - you really don’t care about your daughter’s feelings. You clearly care about your own. And I will be damned if I fall apart when my sister needs me most.
Sometimes I don’t even try not to hate you. Sometimes I wish my son didn’t love you so much. Sometimes I wish that my sister didn’t try so hard to love you, even when you hurt her.
Cheers, and I’ll see you Friday (my sister is coming and I want to give her a buffer in case she needs it),
overly
Brutal. My deepest sympathies to your sister (and to you, for having to deal with all this.)
This is the first job I’ve had where I’m required to attend regular staff meetings.
…What a fucking waste of time.
Sounds like you might have to start taking the same route I do when I have to deal with associates in our Indian offices: use short, simple sentences and bold the most important words.
Hoorah! Citizens demand pictures. 
(So is this like a permanent sun allergy thing, like that one episode of House? Because that would totally blow.)
Sorry your mom’s a bitch. 
Bee keepers are not inherently dorky.
All the cool kids wear Hazmat suits. 
I hate weddings. I’m never going to be in another one until it’s my own and that one is going to be as close to courthouse and barbecue as I can get it.
One of my good friends is getting married. I’m a bridesmaid. Long story short, she recently (after I bought my $160 dress and another friend- the ringbearer’s mom- bought his little suit and without asking or mentioning it to any of us) decided to switch her wedding to a destination wedding in the middle of October. I’m in college, btw. I work a job that pays $0.50 above minimum wage. Even if I could begin to afford to go, I can’t just take off for a week in the middle of October. So that sucks. I said I couldn’t go and asked what she wanted me to do with the dress and she said wear it to the reception she’ll have when they get back. Fuck that- I already own dresses I can wear to wedding receptions and they sure as hell didn’t cost me $160.
*eta: most of us are in college or recent grads, actually. And this particular friend is ALWAYS complaining that she has no money. I don’t know where she expects any of us to get this money, really.
Anyway. That’s only part of the rant. Now, the bachelorette party. So first, I’ll reiterate- I have a job that pays 50 cents above minimum wage and requires me to work almost all weekends and many/most evenings. Hours are a little flexible, but really not very. So her maid of honor is planning this bachelorette party that is supposed to go on for three days and include clubs, hotels, and a live show. It’s going to cost each of us $170. It’s this coming weekend, which a) is Fourth of July weekend and b) is going to be crazy due to the show, (along with c- my co-worker who has been there the longest is leaving for a month on Thursday and d- groupons just game out, but those are things nobody who doesn’t work with me would know) so I can’t possibly take the whole weekend off.
So I made plans for the show if nothing else and asked for time off work for it. It’s supposed to be Saturday night, so my boss scheduled me to work Saturday until about 5. Okay, cool. That way everyone’s happy. Until yesterday, I get an e-mail.
They’ve switched the time they’re going to see the show. Now it’s the matinee. How nice. Now I have to figure this out all over again- the matinee will go from about 3 PM to at least 5:30 pm or so. The earliest shifts at work end at 3 and the latest ones begin at 5. The only way I can swing it all is if I work the very earliest shift, either come in to work dressed and ready (and pray that I don’t drop chocolate or anything on my clothes or mess up my hair) or go to the show in my scrubby work clothes, and beg to be let go an extra half-hour (at least) earlier. There isn’t anyone else who can just take my shift without switching.
This fucking sucks. Not only are they going to be mad at me for having to blow them off, but I’m out another $75 that I won’t even get to use. I’m going to talk to my boss today about the possibility of letting me off at 2:30, but I really don’t know. And I don’t want to be a bitch about it because obviously the party and the wedding are not about me and shouldn’t be planned to accommodate my pain-in-the-ass schedule, but it still sucks for me.
No, but their outfits are. Which is kind of the point.
“To the Beemobile!”
“You mean your Chevy?”
“…Yes.”
This person doesn’t sound like a friend; she sounds like an entitled bitch. It’s an important day for her and her fiance, but that doesn’t extend to expecting everyone to reschedule their lives repeatedly on short notice and spend well beyond their means to participate in the ceremony. I’d tell her to get fucked; you may want to simply tender your regrets that your schedule and budget do not allow you to attend, send a nice card, and spend what would have gone towards a gift on a nice bottle of wine to treat yourself to while you ignore any entitled whining from the bride’s direction.
Good grief. Quoting for truth. If they’re mad AT YOU after they re-schedule like that, they’re no friends. Drinking buddies, maybe. But not friends.
Holy cow, SurrenderDorothy, that’s outrageous! I would very, very seriously consider dumping this friend. That is very disrespectful and insensitive on her part. All of it, but most egregiously changing the wedding to a destination wedding after you’ve agreed to be a bridesmaid.
I’ll jump on the “cut your losses” train - socialize with this woman any time it’s convenient for you, but don’t change your life for someone who obviously doesn’t care about inconveniencing other people. Life is so much better once you stop trying to tie yourself in knots for other people.
Cat… Do I want to know why your current title is “Ass mode”?
Sure! I like Craig Ferguson. 
I should change it to “Robot Skeleton Army.”
And…IT IS DONE!
That requires a thunderclap, doesn’t it?
I thought that was understood.
Ah, another Microsoft rant. I know how you all love to hear people whining about their computers.
I updated today to patch the 16 or so no doubt serious security flaws that have been discovered since the last time I updated a month or so ago. Now my computer is nagging me to restart. Well, guess what, fucktard? I’m working. I was working 15 minutes ago when you nagged me to reboot, and I was working 30 minutes ago when you nagged me to reboot, and I was working the other 15 or so times you’ve popped up that annoying fucking dialog today.
Guess what? Reboot later means ** later **. Not fifteen minutes later, but when-I’m-damned -good-and-ready-to-reboot-later Like when I don’t have 15 windows and files open and set up just so, so I can retain context while i’m programming.
The shithead who wrote a “Remind me later” dialog without a “Shut the fuck up for at least four hours” button should be jabbed with red hot knitting needles every fifteen minutes.
Sheesh, let’s make the update process as annoying and intrusive as possible, and then whine when no one updates their systems.