Another priceless gem from the vault

So, once again I was sorting through my past emails, and found a wonderful letter that you could either take seriously or as an elaborate joke, take your pick. I will have to cut bits for privacy, and maybe add in some notes to orient the reader, but please, enjoy this offering.

DRAFT OF IMPASSIONED LETTER TO ****** REX

Dearest ****** Rex -

I am not quite sure how to start this letter, there is just so much in my heart to say. I suppose I'll start with this, tucked away in my copy of Wassily Kandinsky's Concerning the Spiritual in Art lays carefully preserved that engagement happy note and ring that you sent to me on that fateful Wednesday that seems so long ago, but remains a constant memory. That may not mean much to you, considering the way I broke things off at dinner group and then became engaged to your roommate, but I implore you to read what I have to say to you.

I my defense, although there is no excuse for my rash actions and callous treatment of your heart, I was young, merely 22, and unprepared for the significant step of becoming betrothed. But as I approach the age of 23, I realize that I was a fool without all the important facts to inform my decisions. Truly, I was short-sighted.

For I hadn't realized that you were in graduate school for electrical engineering. That alone makes you highly attractive. Add in the fact that your middle name is REX and you are nearly irresistible. And furthermore, the absolute coup de gràce, you are both R's cousin, and D G's roommate. What more can I say?

You may have heard the tale of the man who once offered to fill the space in my heart. While he was seriously creepy and caused me to run home and hide in [another apartment] and not answer the phone for days, he was also right. There is a hole in my heart, and I was wondering if you could find it within yourself to forgive me, and try to fill that space. You may also be able to erase the black spot on my soul from the 2000 Sydney Summer Olympics.

I ask that you please disregard any and all information you may have heard recently about my commuter crush. While I do spend ridiculous amounts of time with him, he is just a paltry placeholder; he could never compare to you. The scales have fallen from my eyes, [feather boa blue] hair is now rust colored. His eyes may be the color of a kitchen table, but so are yours.

If you forgive me, and renew your offer of engagement, I promise that I will consider changing my last name to [yours], but not seriously and only for a short time.

What more can I say? I am not sure I have the words to articulate the things I could say.

Questions or comments? Please feel free to write or phone.

Adoringly and obsessed with your middle name,
E

The dangers of being overqualified for your job

I would like to think of myself as reasonably intelligent. But as was pointed out by my dearest boss, Earnesto, nearly any sentient body, including furbies, could probably be an executive assistant. It's not a terrible job. It just isn't that great. Part of it is the institution, I know, but really, even fresh out of college, it turns out I was dangerously overqualified for the the position.

I say this because in the stagnant pool that become my mind as I thought of the exigencies of trying to schedule 50 hours worth of meetings into 37.5 hours, last summer I developed a perilous infatuation with Rusty (so named because for reasons unknown, he dyes his hair the exact color of iron oxide, and somehow captures the texture as well)

Okay, now I realize he's just not attractive, but I was sensory deprived, and he seemed so splendidly different from that to which I had become accustomed: the executive. And his hair was also not rusted then, it was my Achilles heel color of feather boa blue. Which is also probably not enticing to you, but work with me.

We met, we were friends, I was really silly, etc, and gory details will not be shared because I do have some dignity I would like to maintain. Anyway, fast-forward months and his contract runs out, and I realize I will never see him again, and I come to my senses. Thank you, blessed October. And I move merrily on with life and back to crushes of guys who are actually in some way shape or form attractive. My acceptance of Rusty's departure was facilitated by his new hair color, which just made me cringe. You can't take hair that color anywhere, unless it's to a stylist to repair the ravages.

And then, in January, back he reappears in my life, wanted to start back where we left off as friends. So not going to happen. I have developed super-skills at ignoring him, and he mopes about when we chance encounter. But in January I was so angry.

Despite my new found ability to deny his entire existence, every time I see Rusty, I wince with the reminder of my terrible mistake, and wish I could undo months of stupidity induced by job dissatisfaction. It was insanity. So when I saw him on the bus this morning, looking just awful, I reiterated my vow to trot out the resumé and start applying for a job where I would use my brain enough to forever hereafter avoid dangerous infatuations.