I wrote an email to my manager before I went away last week. I paid for it today.
In all my experiences, I don't know why I think a stirring email is going to change the shitness of the world. It's as if I think my humble string of words, so carefully put together, is going to move people to change - guess what, people don't change - they just get mad.
It wasn't a nice email, I admit. I knew I was pushing it with the contents - and yep, it was not my finest hour. I'm not proud of it, but I suppose I felt compelled to get something to change. You know, in all my history of letter writing, it's been in response to things that push me to the brink, or the edge - some place uncomfortable.
The pen is mightier than the sword - the keystroke, even more so.
I'm sorriest of all - that the only thing people take from this, is what an an unhinged person I am. All they do is feel sorry for the recipient of the email; they forget what pushed a rational person to write such a thing. The poor bastard who signs off at the end.
I learnt some valuable lessons (I mustn't lose the lesson) - namely, when you feel compelled to write an email - just DON'T.
My manager was obviously disappointed in me - but not as half as much as I am disappointed in her. I realised today, and I know now that it's completely true - that I actually don't matter in the realm of my workplace. I'm so utterly gutted - to hear the truth, and to damage my reputation in the process.
Damn this fiery Aries mouth of mine. Fuck.