I woke up late with a headache and a ridiculous sense of urgency that still does not compute. Today’s Monday. Just Monday. No big deal. Happens once a week about this time. I already know what the day holds, and there’s nothing “urgent” about it.
The sense of urgency disappeared after the man left for his trip and I had my third cup of coffee. The headache is lingering in the background. All that’s left over is the grumps, aggravated by something I found in my email this morning.
Over the weekend, MSB and I decided to get some of our Christmas shopping done early. We hit a store or two, but one of the presents I wanted to get could be found only in a catalog. I called the company and placed my order. The rep asked if I wanted to give them my email address for “confirmation and tracking” (aka: to receive a gazillion emails pertaining to the sale of items I didn’t want, otherwise I would’ve already ordered them). I said no. I distinctly said “no,” because I’ve learned not to do that.
First thing this morning, guess what I found in my inbox?
What did they do–Google me to find my address? It’s true, you can find it just about anywhere, because I do business through email and both of my addresses are published somewhere on the internet. If anyone wanted to find them, they could. But the difference between the way I do business and the way they do business is that I don’t spam potential clients. I have to admit, finding this company’s “newsletter” in my box ticked me off.
It shouldn’t be such a big deal, really. I can unsubscribe from the folks who continue to solicit my business, or I can hit the “spam” button and never see them again, but it’s the principle of the thing.
Contrary to popular belief, “no” means “no” in a wide variety of things, not just sexual advances. It doesn’t mean “she didn’t really mean it,” it doesn’t give permission to find a way around it, and it certainly doesn’t mean to do what you darn well please in spite of it.
I came one send-button-poke away from telling them what I thought of them violating my expressed wishes, but I changed my mind and decided to complain about it here instead. I’ve never been able to give the actual offender a piece of my mind. I won’t send a bad meal back, I won’t tell an obnoxious sales lady to bug off, and, though it has happened–and if he pushes me enough it will happen–I won’t tell a forward man what he can do with his advances (I will, however, walk off and leave him looking like an idiot). Apparently, I’d rather spread my complaints throughout the cyber-universe than to tell the one person/business/organization where they can stick it. I’m not sure I understand that about me.
And I’m not sure why it’s bugging me today. I get junk mail all the time. I guess because I’d specifically told these folks “no,” it’s getting to me. Or maybe it’s because it’s Monday. Or maybe I need more coffee.
Or maybe today, I’m just grumpier than Grumpy Cat. Steer clear.
Ah, pooey. Sorry about the headaches (figurative and literal). I’ll join you in a cup of that coffee!
Wish you lived nearby where we actually grab a cup together!