Passive Aggressive [NOT 3/10/24]

Hi, friends!

How is your day going? Anything fun happen? In honor of Mean Girls Day*, I was thinking about how good some of the insults are in that movie.

The closer you get to St Louis city itself, the less republicans you find. Tonight I was behind a dude in a lifted truck with a Trump 2024 sticker and I saw him get cut off 4 times. I don’t normally see people get cut off on most stretches of the drive home. I think it was intentional.

At work I have started compiling a list of “basic shit this other team asks me for that they should do themselves” – it’s really passive aggressive right now in the first draft form. Soon I’ll have to reword it to be more business-appropriate, unfortunately. Currently I have gems like “chooses to ask me for project details that the search function in their own ticket backlog would clarify for them.”

*in the movie, our heroine is obsessed with a boy and in typical obsessed teen fashion, one of her memories of him refers to Oct 3rd so now unofficially it’s Mean Girls day

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14 Comments

  1. well…akshually… you are passiving wrong

    just so you know. you know… not trying to prove a point

    but compiling a list.. is active agressive

    letting them hang themselves is passive agressive

     

  2. I was thinking about this very topic today. Democrats are much less … scared and intimidated. In fact, I think there’s a tendency to … I don’t know, strike back? It’s just startling how many Harris/Walz signs I see and zero Trump shit. There’s one lunatic on the way to my wife’s job that has some hand-lettered “FU Harris” signs in his yard that look like they were made by homeless people. And there’s probably six houses on that street with Harris/Walz signs. There’s one schmuck in my neighborhood with a Trump 2020 flag and I think he just moved away.

    I think normal people are tired of being terrorized by these weirdo freaks and there’s a serious backlash forming. And I live in a red state too.

  3. I had to take three hours of PTO today to go downtown and interpret for an inmate. (They even led me to the holding area on the mezzanine for nothin’, man, because they didn’t even bring him down until the judge was already in the courtroom.

    There was another interpreter there for a different language, and she was with the same agency I used to work for. I didn’t know her, though, and we didn’t acknowledge each other. In any case, not to be competitive about it, but I think I did a better job than she did — if only because when the case for the person who spoke her language came up, she was still seated in the public seating area and not interpreting.

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