anal retention

My baby sister, who works at a law firm in Seattle, received this email at work. It is from one anal retentive attorney to another co-worker attorney. It is in regards to the roof top patio garden at the firm. After receiving this e-mail, the recipient cc it to everyone in the firm.I used initials to protect privacy. I would hate to have this attorney sue me

I appreciate your excitement and appreciation for my now ripening tomatoes. As these tomatoes come into season I had planned to share the excess (those that I could not consume or take home for my family to enjoy) with my fellow co-workers, particularly those that helped water – namely J— , H and B.

I did not envision the need to be clear on some basic considerations. However, it appears that I do.

No one has permission to pick and consume the tomatoes.

I will judge whether the tomatoes are ripe for picking and will do so when I determine the time is ripe; at that time I will also make the decision to share. You also may ask on occasion if you can pick and consume a certain number and I will consider the request in light of my needs, the amount my family may want, and the amounts previously shared and consumed by others, particularly those that have helped in the growing process.

I hope the above is clear, as it should have been before you decided to help yourself without asking first.

Thank you.

I think this attorney made his point across don’t ya think! I have this awful feeling that someone is going to poison his precious tomatoes.

My birthday has come and gone now. I’m now 39 years old. Almost the big 4-0- I still have trouble convincing my self that I’m no longer 25. When I was 25 I used to say that I was a quarter of a century old. I wanted to feel older. Now, my thoughts are reversed. Maybe I could still tell people I’m 25. Age is just a number. I feel 18 at heart. I know I don’t want to live to be 107 like my patient Bunny. That is too old. Last night she was yelling for help. When I came to assist she told me that she wanted to go to bed. I told her she was already in bed. Yep, I think 107 is too old. BB and the kids took me to Ocean Shores for my birthday. I laid on the beach and buried my feet deep into the hot sand, chased after the waves and then run away from them, watched with amusement how the one legged seagul functions, feeling sorry for the old beach horses. I refuse to ride the horses. Maybe it is because of the disrepaired trailers that transport them or the muddled owners that collect $20.00 for an hour ride. I wonder if I’m the only one that feels this way

OCEAN SHORES…