Until I get around to uploading the platypus picture (see comments section of previous post), please enjoy this note I found on the windshield of my car in my office parking lot last night. AK and I spent a good half hour dissecting its weird passive-aggressiveness. A couple of things you should know:
1. All the spots in our lot are really fucking small.
2. Four out of every five people who work in my building are therapists.*
I intentionally leave lots of space so when you park between lines I won’t knock your door and vice versa. You have been parking practically on top of me with ample space on your other side—you are over the line in my driver’s side. I can’t get in unless I go through the passenger seat and crawl in that way. Thanks. :-)
AK told me someone once left her a note that said, “Lea
Anyway, I’m working on my parking skills and enjoying the fact that my blog is writing itself this week.
*Not that there’s anything wrong with therapists. If not for mine, I’d still be the kind of person who left notes in which I tried to make people think I was really nice even while telling them crappy things. But don’t you think there’s something a little therapy-speak going on here?