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Dear Subordinate, because that's what you are now, because I got promoted and you didn't, I have some things to say.
1. Learn to take responsibility for your mistakes.
Everybody makes errors. I don't give a shit if you screw up. I give a shit if when I call you out on it, you go ballistic and defend yourself. I give a shit if I have to tell you not to make the same mistake twice, three times, four times. I give a shit when you shift the blame to me, and in the most obnoxious way -- "You know I'm not responsible! You should've never given me the job!" WELL I KNOW THAT NOW YOU DUMB BITCH.
2. Stop trying to take advantage.
Our friendship ended when you decided to say in front of every other intern "who the fuck does he think he is." Who I think I am is your supervisor, and the guy who has covered for the fact that you come in 2 hours late every day for the last 6 weeks. That's who the fuck I am.
2. Respect is assumed until proven otherwise.
"Respect is earned, not granted" is the most ridiculous shit I've ever heard. How narcissitic do you have to be to think everyone in the world should work to earn your respect? How about having the common fucking courtesy to treat everyone you meet with respect, and consideration? Is it neccessary to put somebody down every time you open your mouth?
3. You are who you are. But my opinion bloody matters, and you damn well better listen.
Feeling good about yourself is not the only thing that counts. If I have to make you cry to get you to understand that I'm in charge, that's what I'll fucking do. It's good you're an individual, but if being rude, disrespectful, and obnoxious is part of your individuality, then fuck you we have a problem.
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Ok, and this next part is directed at my supervisor.
Dear Dick,
I'm sorry you don't have any friends, that your entire life is devoted to this job which you don't get paid a cent for, and that you have $350 in parking tickets and live on a revolving pool of credit card debt.
I am not your outlet for your personal problems. You don't get to snap at me and tell me to get out every time I come and ask you something. You especially don't get to YELL at me for inadvertently damaging your status in the office politics that's going on, that I want no part of (mainly because three weeks from now, I'll have nothing to do ever again with this office), and that I know nothing about. Instead, you could take responsibility for yourself, declare bankruptcy, and get a paying job, which your masters from whatever Ivy League you went to should land you easily.
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holy shit i feel better.