2000-11-13 - 8:28pm
So this year, I am in charge of the Christmas party our office throws every year for the kids and grandkids of employees. It's a lot of fun (I worked on it last year), but I'm also discovering it's a lot of stress and planning.
So, I sent an e-mail to the people who are helping me this year, as well as some of the people who headed it up last year, asking if they would mind meeting with me at lunch this week, just for 15-20 minutes, to allay my fears and to offer any advice that I might not be able to get from the stacks and stacks of papers and receipts they gave me.
I send this e-mail out, nice and polite. A few minutes later, I get an e-mail. It's from one of the women who worked on it last year, addressed to the other woman who worked on it last year, saying "Why do you suppose we're the lucky ones?"
I wanted to write back So the kids, your daughter included, will have a nice time and some nice memories, bitch. But I didn't.
For what it's worth, anyway, all the other people I invited thought it was a great idea.
