I’m not talking about sex. (Disappointed?) I’ve been on the receiving end of an email diatribe, which basically compares me to a baby eating, sociopathic anarchist. Apparently, I’m only one step above snail snot. Who knew?
By the third email, I started getting a headache. By the fifth, I was self-medicating with M&Ms. After that, there may have been talk of burning in hell, or dancing naked in a petting zoo. My eyes had glazed over, so it’s kind of a blur.
Fortunately, I’m an author. That means I’ve seen more rejection than Stevie Wonder at the DMV. I don’t know how I managed to live most of my life trying to make sure that everybody liked me. I was a serial people pleaser – enjoying the thrill of the hunt for people who would walk all over me. But there is hope for even the most hardened of cases. It all boils down to a two-letter word: “no.”
“Talk to the hand” is so overused. If you need a subtle way to refuse someone you might try some of the following:
I have to check the freshness dates on my dairy products
I’m attending the opening of my garage door
I have to answer all my “occupant” letters
I promised to help a friend fold road maps
I’m waiting to see if I’m already a winner
I’m observing National Apathy Week
I love to help my friends when I can, but when you have to say no do they:
a) Accept it graciously and respect your needs and wishes; or
b) Accuse you of ruining their lives, contributing to global warming, and voting straight line Republican?
I’m fortunate to have friends who understand that I have limitations and who like me anyway. You guys are the best! To those who get bent out of shape when I have to say no, tough beans, at least I didn’t vote for Mitt.
I don’t know why anyone would send you those terrible emails because I think you’re great! P.S. Don’t ask me for any donations because I have to clean my hamster cage.
Love it! I’ll need that when the Fraternal Order of Police call.
Smile Karla it’s only the eighth day of the year!
So much to look forward to! February is National anthrax awareness month.
In the partial words of a complete unnamed stranger: “Joke them if they can’t take a @#%$”
I did say it was partial. Fill in the blank fun to keep you busy. Because No means No. If you need me to kick some arse, just let me know. I know some guys with big muscles, little brains, and a lot of time on their hands.
HUGS, my friend!
It was actually a good excuse to snarf down M&Ms. That’ll learn them good!
I don’t like to be abused with words, and don’t even want to hear other people getting abusive at each other , yet I don’t do well on this stuff myself on what I say to other people many times.
I talk a good game, but it’s hard when you’ve been taught that politeness means putting up with other people’s crap. Damn Miss Manners!
Miss Manners and I would have issues too, in this regard…
M&Ms were made to be scarfed down!
Actually, she could get pretty snarky in a back-handed, passive-aggresive sort of way. I’d like to see her in a rumble at the biker bar. I bet she packs a mean pool cue.
I had a “friend” accuse me of kicking her when she was down because I questioned a post she made on my blog that was rather insulting to me and a mutual friend. Instead of apologizing for being bitchy, she put the blame on me. I guess I was being mean to poor little her, I don’t know.
This person didn’t even acknowledge that he was insulting me or accusing me of anything. He thought he was just being logical and persuasive, relentlessly trying to bring me to his point of view. In what world does that kind of abuse entice people to change their minds?