Dear Unfailingly Cheerful Volunteer Person;

Okay, I get it. You volunteer, and that's awesome. You clearly don't need to work full time, so you do something that gives you meaning and helps others. I am, truly, happy that you do that; in fact, it's something I often suggest to my clients who feel that their life has no meaning. You fulfill an important need here, and make lives easier for the patients.

Meanwhile, however, can I offer you some tips to ensure I don't wind up throwing my radio at you?

1) The reason I'm not smiling is because I'm concentrating on my job. I'm not unhappy, or sad, or angry, (and don't need cheering up) but I will be if you don't stop yelling SMILE!! at me every single time you see me, and then waiting to see if I comply.

2) I used to leave my door open, but now it's nearly shut for a reason. If I shut it all the way, then people who need to see me won't knock on it. It's not nearly shut so that you can peak in and start a conversation. If you don't have business with me, walk on by. And don't ever, ever knock on my door when it's closed.

3) I'm working. My employer doesn't pay me to chat about your new grandchild, dog, parakeet, son, daughter, ex-husband, spring plantings, winter rye, the fruit setting up in your garden, how busy you're going to be canning this season, the type of organic fertilizer you use, the bald patches in your grass, the latch on your gate that needs fixing, the wonderful supper you cooked up last week, the fish you caught, the awesome cloud formations you saw last week, or what they talked about on Oprah yesterday. It's not just you. It's you, and every single other volunteer that stops by and wants to talk about these things.

4) I especially don't want to hear about your restful week. I gave up summers off to be here.

5) When if I'm on the phone, don't hover in my doorway where you can hear the conversation, waiting for me to finish. Also, I'm "working hard." I'm not "hardly working," so LMTFA. Moreover, it's cold enough for me, it's hot enough for me, it's windy enough for me, and yes, I'm thankful that it's Friday.

6) Sometimes, you can just have thoughts in your head that don't need to be expressed out loud. Trust me.

7) Quit hogging the bathroom. What the hell are you doing in there for so long?

That's it. Thanks for letting me rant.

...

Dear Princess...

Okay, I shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as I did, that moment when you shouted at me about what a bitch I am, in front of the vice principal.

But I did.

And I shouldn't enjoy the news that you'll be a freshman again next year.

But I do.

Just not for the reasons you'd suspect.
See, you're a beautiful, smart, talented upper middle-class kid from the suburbs, from a nice family that dotes on you. You're not abused or neglected. So, why are you like this? Not because you have some dark tragedy in your life. No, the real tragedy is that nobody ever said 'No' to you before. You failed nearly every class last year, and were promoted to 9th grade anyway. Despite your Fs and school suspensions, you still have a cell phone and an ipod and a car.

You've been given chance after chance after chance, and what have you done with it? You're intelligent, and have only managed to pass choir and PE. You've gotten over two dozen office referrals this year. Many of these were for bullying other students. Nearly a third were for swearing at your teachers when they asked you to settle down and stop being so disruptive, and cussing out substitutes and office staff: All people who were just doing their job.

Now here's a newsflash: At the end of the day, I get in my car, and drive home. I sleep well. We all do, we "losers" with our degrees, our jobs, our friends and our families.

And you, well, you'll be a freshman again next year. That fact is fundamentally unchangeble. No amount of summer school will save you. Your friends will be moving to another school, and you'll still be here. Hopefully, you'll learn something from this very painful lesson. Hopefully, that "NO" will be meaningful enough for you to make some changes. We'll see.

Oh, and one more thing: if and when you reach "Step 8," don't pick me. I'm not interested.

Oh wait, one more thing:


...