This week has been a jumble of overlong workdays, mornings that came too early, and an enduring, mysterious dry skin condition that leaves me sadly unkissable, unless I’m in the mood for some burning pain. Oh, sign me up.
When I attain this rare state that consists of edgy, hurting, and stressed, the smallest things set me off. It’s raining today…That stupid song keeps playing during my commute… They change the time of one of my favorite shows! ARGH! The nerve!
And then, I got an email that just added another one to the list.
At my company, when there’s a new hire, the hiring manager sends out an email that introduces the person and some basic stats, like start date, education, and hobbies. We also get an email address so that we can send early greetings and that person sees people’s names before the first day. I try to send a welcome email more often than not because I loved getting them when I was first hired. So I write a quick email to the new girl about who I am and what I do, and I can’t wait to meet her, and so on and so forth, and I sign my name how I like to be addressed.
That last part is the key.
I firmly believe that when you receive an email, you should address your response in the way that the person signed it. For example, I wouldn’t normally spell
Well. The new hire wrote me back, and if my name was Traycee, she spelled it
It’s not like my name is some fake-o way of spelling things, but I am particular about it. I think it shows attention to detail and, again, respect, to pay attention to how your recipient wants to be addressed. I suspect that this obsession stems from my name being misspelled, wrongly capitalized, and incorrectly spaced for my entire life. Not that I have any baggage. Or whatever.
I know it's a stupid thing.
My lips still hurt.
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