Note to Self

Dear Miss Management,

Thank you for taking the time in your busy schedule to read my email. I appreciate your attention, as you have been ruining my work-life balance for years. 

I have a few concerns that must be promptly addressed. You have been quite unreasonable with your deadlines. You may think they are attainable goals, but I’m telling you, they are not. Your expectation that creativity springs from thin air, project after project, is illogical. I am not a damn magician. 

Sometimes I need some time to percolate, nurture, and develop ideas before they are ready for presentation. The more you push your deadlines, the less creative I feel. Try not to take this personally, but there are deadlines in which I think you are, with all due respect, pulling out of your holiday candy-sized ass. 

There is also the matter of your expectation for perfection. I take pride in my attention to detail, and I put tremendous energy into making sure everything is as close to perfect as possible. In fact, I carry a giant ball of expectation between my shoulder blades and neck every single day thanks to your constant criticism of me. I suggest you drink something that will warm your icy Grinch heart on the way down and chill the hell out. Your team would be ever so grateful.

Finally, my little girl has been begging to see me more. She is often in tears as I explain yet again, we will play that game or read that book as soon as mommy is a little less busy. Well, Boss Lady, I have had about enough. You need to see that nothing is more important to me, and I’m not going to accept your impossible deadlines, unattainable level of perfection, and your ineffective criticism of me this holiday season. 

This impossible pace has led me to extreme burnout, and I am now prioritizing my workplace mental health by setting new boundaries.

It’s time to be effing jolly, and that’s what I intend to do. No level of dick-dom will be acceptable at this point. And don’t think things will go back to your “usual” practice after the holidays. There are going to be permanent changes. I know for a fact, you cannot run this place without me. So, I’m telling you how it’s going to be from now on.

On that note, again, thank you for your time. I hope your holidays turn you into less of a Scrooge and more like the honorable Cratchit.

Have a Nice Holiday,

Sue

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Taking a sip of my drink, the warm sensation hits my stomach. The word “sent” appears on my screen. It’s done now. I exhale and lean back in my chair, tension fading with another sip. Damn, it feels good. I smile, imagining all the fun things I might actually have time for over the coming holiday.

The old familiar ping of my inbox comes through. The screen displays the evidence: message received. With a righteous chuckle before closing my computer, I read the subject line “Note to Self this Holiday.” 

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