Customer in livechat: what kind of box do you recommend for homemade soap? they are a pretty standard size bar
Me: ::headdesk::

It never ceases to amaze me how many people assume that my job involves thinking for them. Or telepathy.

Dear customer -
The number of different products we carry is somewhere in the more-than-several thousands. I’m glad that you want a quote for a “custom printed box” but you’re going to have to be just a little more specific if you want us to be able to run up a printing quote.

not so much love,
me.

PS – ::begin extra snark:: Of course, I am working on that mail order parapsychology/Advanced ESP course, and if you want to wait until that certificate comes through (should be any day now, really), I’ll be able to help you without requiring you to lift a finger or strain your brain at all. ::end extra snark::

Dear customers,
Your desire to be “green” is commendable, but you should understand the following:

• Asking for a biodegradable paper cup is redundant.
• Unless specifically stated otherwise, ALL commercial paper products sold today contain some recycled content. (100% virgin paper is horrifically expensive) No, we do not have the exact percentage breakdowns for all of our products.
• Soy based ink might be the hot new thing, but you only need it on items that you plan on putting in your mouth or on/near food.
• Looking green and being green are not the same thing. Tying your boxes with raffia will look nice, but will not reduce your carbon footprint.
• On the above note, you might want to think about NOT buying quite so much packaging from us, if you’re really interested in being eco-friendly.

Yesterday and Friday, everyone in the office was exclaiming how miserable I must be, stuck without air conditioning on the first floor, while everyone else (everyone except the warehouse staff, of course) was basking in A/C land upstairs.

I shrugged – temperature is relative, I said, and so long as I’m not upstairs too often, I don’t much notice the lack.

Today, the A/C for the whole building died. The third floor office has been getting hotter all day, as the heat rises. They’re running fans and cursing fate, nature, and the bosses with equal vigor. I’m still pretty darn comfortable down here.

The only person who gets to call me “sweetie” is my mom. You do not meet that requirement, and can therefore drop dead.

…grumble grumble….