An open letter

Dear Co-Worker,

How are you still alive?

Seriously, you are so fucking stupid it makes ME feel stupid and I am a fucking genius.

I ask you to mail something and you look at it like I just handed you the dead sea scrolls. I give you a post-it with a legibly written address on it and you don't spell it out. Then, FedEx needs a phone number and instead of putting one of the 35 numbers (that is a literal number, not an exaggeration) that we have in this office you come out and ask me for a random number. You go back to your cubicle of insanity and come out and hand it back to me and then take a 10 minute break so I can stew in my own pot of hatred for you. When you come back and I question you we have this little exchange.

me: This needs to be addressed to the "Fellowship Selection Committee" not the "Fellows Selection Committee"

you: maybe it didn't fit *begins to ramble and look for an excuse

me: well, did it not fit?

you: no

Why didn't you just say that to begin with? Why does it feel like you are trying to get me the closest I have ever been to murdering someone? Then I realize that you might really be that stupid which scares me because I live on the same planet as you. Then you come back out here as I am typing this to continue on about how it did not fit. Fine, whatever, I do not care anymore. You make me feel like a boy who gets beat up at school only to come home and find out his puppy is dead.