Friday, December 10, 2004

Christmas Cards

I love Christmas time. I love the trees and the lights and the cheap plastic glowing nativities with one of the wise men tipped over like a passed out drunk. I love stores crammed with people wearing wool coats sweating on me and I love irresponsible spending. I love Scotch tape. And I especially love Christmas cards.

The cards are just now starting to trickle in, and it looks like it's going to be a great year. The first card I got was from my evil aunt. Not content with her pre-Thanksgiving psychological torture, she continues the mind fuck by writing "Our conversation the week before Thanksgiving was a blessing!!! Someday you'll figure out that every instinct you have is wrong and then you'll change and become the mindless automaton we all want you to be. Then we can finally be proud of you and stop claiming that we found you under a bush. You are special (or will be someday)!" Ok, so she didn't say exactly that, but it's what she meant, and it had it's intended effect of making me feel lower than a discarded band-aid on a sewer grate. Gloria! Let the Christmas spirit begin!

I also got a great card from the CEO. He hasn't spoken to me since I tendered my resignation, although he did tell VP of Operations that he's disappointed that they didn't create an environment where I could see the value of the opportunity they were presenting me. I assume he meant my promotion sans raise. Hmm. Yup, I have no idea how I missed the value of that opportunity. But I did get a lovely card. It reads, "Amber - Consider staying! Merry Christmas." Well, geez when you put it that way, how can I resist? Oh wait, I remember how. Because you suck. What's even better is that he sent a card to another co-worker of mine, Sandi, who has been with the company for a ridiculous tenure of 13 years. Her card reads, "Sandy - Merry Christmas." You'd think that sometime during her 13 years of loyal service he'd learn to spell her name, but it seems otherwise. I thought it was funny and told her to frame it. She, however, found it insulting and threw it out.

We've been receiving some gems here at work as well. One card features the satanic drawings of someone's possessed 4-year-old, who has chosen a beheaded devil-snowman with one very prominent incisor and carrying a bloody pitchfork to represent the spirit of Christmas. Another one has a lovely photo of the entire staff lined up outdoors in neat little rows. Until you look closer and realize that several people in the photo have been super-imposed, apparently over top the the original employees who were shit-canned before the cards got printed. NICE.

I haven't sent my cards out yet, mostly because my friends won't give me their addresses for fear I'll come over and fuck up their lives as badly as I usually fuck up mine. Also, I'm too broke to afford postage stamps. And I'm never really sure what I want to say to my family. Maybe I should deliberately misspell my aunt's name and then write "Thanks for making me feel like a turd. Merry Fucking Christmas!" Or I could just send everyone a hand drawn picture of Santa holding up Blitzen's severed head, and say some little kid drew it and the proceeds from my purchase went to the Wee Little Serial Killers Children's Home. Ok, so maybe I was found under a bush...

2 comments:

Eric said...

I guffawed, I snicked, I snorted, I laughed.

amberance said...

Anything to please you Eric!