It’s the end of the fiscal year, and I had it. Do you know how hard I work day and night to open the business envelope? It is mind-numbing, soul-crushing, tedious work. Sometimes I get so brain dead at the end of the day that I accidentally thank my partner for making dinner by telling the pre-famous Blatter, “Your gift makes a difference.” Once my little paperclip about not being elected student council secretary was out of shape, I responded, “Contributions of any size help.” Do you have any idea what it is like me.
My life has been reduced to vague fundraising pitches like “Give a Lifetime Lifetime” and “Scholarships Change Lives”. My financial year-end anxiety is so weak that I am repeating the nightmare of Sally Strathers’ Ethiopian Children’s Campaign. I was horrified by his angry, embarrassing and confusing speech: “If these children survive after 3 years of mature old age, they will live like this in a pile of dung. Happy Birthday. “I woke up screaming,” No, not the kids. Today is your day! Your gift is important!
When I need some positive self-talk, I say to myself, “Remember the day you opened the lawyer’s letter? Widow Hugh dies, leaving all her possessions in college as an uncontrollable gift! I hate to be happy about someone’s death, but it was a great day at the annual payoff office.
However, by June 25, I’m not sure if I can continue, and I want to leave. I look at the pile of envelopes delivered by the mail service, and my anxiety returns to her ugly head. Is anyone going to be a jerk today? I mean, I’m really sorry that your son was kicked out of college for weeding in the Commons. Yes yes, I know; He said he was kicked out because a professor was out to get him. Like I can do something about it.
I take a deep breath with each envelope open and think, “Is this going to tape a penny on the answer card because some Dutch bag thought it would be fun to waste the post and get a thank you note for a penny? “Okay already. I know you hate the administration. FYI, everyone hates the administration.
Please don’t think that you are giving us a “real” gift by sending us another pamphlet telling us that if we do not find Jesus we are going to hell. However, it is a public institution, and we are not allowed to discuss religion. And please, no more Family circus Or Jigi Cartoon, either. Like last time, they are not funny. They weren’t funny in the 1970s either. No one knows what they mean. At least you can be more creative by sending people vintage Gippy the Pinhead Or an R. Crumb Stay in the transaction ‘ Strip
When I cried on the phone to my mom about the working condition, she told me it would be cut too. Why couldn’t I go do my PhD? Did he tell me instead of getting an MFA? No one believes it is a terminal degree. Doesn’t anyone notice that there is no such thing as a PhD? In the studio industry? If I have a Ph.D. Achieved, I was in the President’s office at the moment to open invitations to another President’s inauguration. Or perhaps I would like to laugh at the FOIA request from the conspiracy theory-driven professor to ask for the salaries and detailed budgets of all the senior administrators. (It’s all online!) I imagine cleaning the fingernails of the receptionist, who sits day after day observing the President’s visit to the female doctor and making sure that her supply of yogurt and granola bars never runs out. That will be life.
I’m not as crazy as I’m sorry. Although I look like a knife, I will never be violent. I’ve heard of letter opener accidents before, but I think paper cutting is more common. Someone wants to bleed red and white it goes against my policy. (Why would anyone think it would be a good idea to bleed in your school colors? Sick, sick mind.)
This is what I want to open letters everywhere: Please make your gift online and don’t wait until the last minute. Our system is so old that it could crash (again), and then we would be damaged by auditors. They will not allow us to count a gift for the current year if it is not by midnight on June 30th. I don’t want to explain why you don’t get your baseball hat gift. Give your gift by June 30th. Oh, and I want world peace too.