Tummy lipo? That might not be a bad idea. I'm sure anything is better than this male girdle I've been wearing. The girdle does an adequate job of holding things in but it has dramatically increased my visits to the restroom (OK that's probably more than you ever wanted to know about me).

Moving right along: next Monday, coinciding with the first Monday of daylight savings time, is our annual "screw your co-worker party". Unfortunately its not what it sounds like. It's one of those team-building exercises where for an hour you are paired with a co-worker you've had difficulty working with. Your co-workers vote on which two people get paired together thus the name. The rest of the day you take time to visit people you've had problems with and work things out. I'm paired with my manager, and for the rest of the day everyone I work with has requested fifteen minutes to come talk to me. Something tells me I'm not loved.

I'm going to sue for discrimination! Granted I'm the least productive member in my work group and yet my salary compares favorably with the most productive members of the group, but that is not enough. I demand to be loved. It's a quality of work environment issue, or at least that's what the lawyer I talked to told me. He also suggested I claim to be mentally disabled. That way they can't raise the issue of my poor job performance. God I love lawyers.

The way I see it there is no reason I should work hard for the next thirty years if I can take advantage of the system. Let's face it, with political correctness and increased tolerance sweeping the work place I might never face real discrimination. Playing by the rules is a luxury I can't afford. I subscribe to the Joe Kennedy theory of life. "Get rich first then buy respectability". So if that means I steal from my work place, file frivolous lawsuits or scam people in my community hey its all for a greater good. My long term well being. Everyone thinks like this so why fight it right?

Time for a smoke break,
(Hey maybe I could sue a tobacco company also)
Siraw

I've tried. I've truly tried, to curb my tongue, to play by these asinine "editors'" rules. Who do they think they are anyway? (Do YOU know them?) Actually, don't answer that. I'm certain you don't. You would actually have to stick your head outside of your own perimeter of self-absorbed existence then, wouldn't you?

Iné! Iné! Iné! Iné! That's all you're about!
Do you ever ask about me? Do you even make a pretense at a tiny bit of curiosity? No! You know, Abesha boys like you are the reason I am contemplating crossing over to the other side.

You know what, I take back my initial offer of a discount on a cosmetic job for you. What you need, I cannot provide. We don't do lobotomies or ego-botomies, in your case. You, Siraw (if that is indeed your real name), are beyond any kind of help I can give you. I hope that your co-workers don't simply stop at "talking" to you. Are they allowed to hit?

Who cares if they love you at work!? You don't even sound as though you deserve your pet dog's love. According to your own incessant harping, you don't pull your weight at work. You deliberately hammer your hand in your misguided effort to attract Lin, Sin, Bin....whatever her name is, and, and, AND! You SMOKE! Need I say more? What sane woman - for that matter, what insane woman - would want to take you on with all your Dilbertesque issues!?

I'm done here! You can tell those SeleDUM editors anything you please. They said that this was going to be worth my while. They said that this was the careers issue and we'd actually need to give insights into our respective careers. They said I'd walk away from this experience the richer for it.

Well, I've got news for you, Editors! I'm several thousand dollars poorer for this experience. To think that I actually took time out for this, that I actually rearranged appointments, delayed consultations, discouraged rhynoplasties - you name it, I did it. And for what? For the unique privilege of hearing Siraw let his whine run the gamut from his abysmal lack of fashion sense to his horribly maligned co-workers with all of whom I've now developed a sense of affinity.

Next time, vet your diarists with more than a cursory phone call...and don't EVER bother me again!

Dr. Kokeb Aberra

&nsp;

From:  Kokeb
To:      Siraw
Subj:   That wasn't me...

Oh my God! Oh, my God! That wasn't me. Really. I mean, it was me, but it wasn't me. I was off my Prosac for like two seconds. I'm so sorry. My therapist did warn me and my Yoga instructor had experienced the same level of sudden and inexplicable dementia when she went off her medication. I remember commiserating with her over a cup of latte (skinny, double decaff-espersso, with a sprig of mint) and thinking I wouldn't be caught dead in the same situation. But I was, and you had to pay for it. God! Jeez. I hope I didn't ruin your whole day. Did I? Did you have to go for a smoke right away? Well, maybe some good came from this. Maybe you went and cried on Din's (Lin's?) shoulder and now you two are an item or something. I'm not joking. I mean that sincerely.

Oh, and the editors. Here's a public apology for my unforgivable behavior on such a public forum. I shall never be able to hold up my head again. But I have learnt my lesson. I will never, ever again, skip my Prosac dosage.

Siraw, do you think they'd post this? Probably not... .