I'll make her a deal she can't refuse
Our office is like a tiny, tiny sauna. The heat radiates in through the walls, and no matter how many fans we have going, or how many windows are open…it still feels like I should be wearing a towel and having a good steam.
My older sister has a cold and her voice is almost completely gone. She sounds like the Godfather. She dispenses advice from her office in London via email and I just sit here and worry that I am again, fucking up at my job. One of my managers corrects me on everything down to her middle initial. I guess I was never very good at constructive criticism. Given my age, I doubt it’s something that will change anytime soon.