Sonnet 87

I definitely, most certainly, without a doubt, utterly despise a particular group of physical scientists “concerned with the composition, structure, and properties of matter”. They’ve impressed upon me that they’re just a bunch of self-entitled, good-for-nothing, self-centered whiners who somehow think the world revolves around them, and that I am suddenly their secretary simply because I’m female. Ah, just like almost every other academic on this planet!

What part of “federal regulations” do you not understand, Dr. Big Shot Academic About Whom No One of Importance Cares? You have to do it, period. There are no exceptions for you simply because of your doctorate, and frankly, I really don’t care you have a doctorate. Big deal—if I wanted one, I’d go and get one. I’m only one step away, after all. See how furious you make me, in which I very nearly contemplate going back to school just to bite my thumb at you? And I bet you don’t even get that reference! Argh! All of you need to disappear from my inbox NOW. I am at the point where I will stop answering your questions in 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . .