I don't deal well with rude.

I had a bad day.

I won't give you all the boring background details, but suffice it to say, last week I was working hard to get my stomach back to normal.  Not sure if it was a bout of acid reflux or the early stages of a peptic ulcer…  Either way, Dr. Jewell (that'd be me, with my medical degree by WebMD) put me on a strict diet of bland.  If you know me, you already know that's nothing short of torture.

So Friday rolls along and I'm feeling better.  Well, more than just better – for the first time in days, I'm actually hungry!  I skip to the refrigerator, anxiously looking forward to my stash of chicken salad that's barely been touched to this point.  Or so I thought.  I grabbed my container, which had clearly been labeled with my initials (as per the standard in our office), only to find it almost gone.  Someone had taken my chicken salad and… ate it.  Whoever it was left me about three bites in the bottom.  Not to quote the little girl from Full House or anything, but…

How rude!

I was horrified.  Stupified.  Anything "fied" that means stunned, shocked, gobsmacked – only amplified.  Someone had taken my food, the food my doctor prescribed, the diet that was healing me – and ate it.  Probably with a fork, double dipping.  Gross.  Then, as my stomach growled, my emotions evolved into sheer, bitter anger.  You know how people who have had their houses robbed say they feel violated?  Yep.  Totally get it.  I wanted to know who, and I wanted revenge.  I don't deal well with rude. 

So, I wrote them a note:

Side note – I found this pad of sticky notes in an art store in Chicago and just couldn't resist the impulse purchase.  And now, my impulse has totally paid off.  I felt vindicated by just writing the note.  This experience has inspired me…  I think I'm going to start a whole new campaign of revenge notes when the urge strikes.  I've got plenty left in the pad!  Stay tuned, I'll share more as they're posted.  I'm on a mission to stamp out rude.