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Manic-depressive?

Jedan od proslih postova drage Free Uterus ("Svakidasnja jadikovka") nagnao me da s vama podijelim jedan sluzbeni (!!!) e-mail koji poslao na adrese raznijeh vaznih ljudi na poslu, jer bi DOOOVDE dosla zajebancija na poslu. Prosle sam godine dosegao rock-bottom mojeg nezadovoljstva poslom i kvalitetom zivota u Nizozemskoj.

Naime, bio sam poceo ozbiljno talasat' - a to je najveci zlocin koji covjek moze uciniti u instituciji u kojoj radim, a buduci da ja "nisam bilo tko" izazvao sam dosta paznje i uzrokovao mnogo briga: ljudi su se poceli brinut da cu se koknut. Ozbiljno! A sto sam sretnijim bio, to se vise ljudi brinulo -- za popizdit! Za sada i zauvijek: nemam ama bash nikakvih zelja se ubiti, bez obzira koliko se lose mozda osjecam u nekom trenutku: to bi bio gubitak za covjecanstvo! (And I believe it!)

What a difference a... year makes, eh?

Subject: Manic depressive?

Body:

Dragi moji prijatelji plus Dragy Pozhnanyche Goropadny,
(My dear friends plus a dear beta-man,)

Svi koji mislite da sam ja a manic-depressive ili nekako drugacije mentalno puknut, nabijem vas ja sve skupno na... kiflu (cak i vas, najdrazi moji A. i B, iako sa svim duznim postovanjem).
(To anyone thinking I am a manic-depressive or otherwise mentally 'chipped', I send you my love.)

I had more psychiatrists have a look at me than you can shake your stick at, some twenty plus years ago, and the best they could come up with was "borderline", which (I don't mind telling you) is an expert term for precisely Diddley. "You know, S, there is really nothing wrong with you, except that you are a bit off center, that's all" was a popular refrain.

The only psychiatrist that was clever enough to really get to know me in a minimal contact that we had was dr. I.B., who several years later developed a paranoia that he has contracted AIDS and ultimately commited suicide in Anin dol forrest by Samobor, by slashing his veins vertically along the arm and then meticulously wrapping his arm in naylon bag so as to, arguably, be more presentable a corpse.

I also do not have a problem with insomnia. Not at all. I can always fall asleep when the sun rises. My problem is that I am an intelligent, talented, versatile, eager, honest, handome etc etc (fill-in-the-blank) individual that requires intellectual stimulation to LIVE and AM NOT GETTING ANY for the ninth f-ing year in a row at work. I can't remember the last month when I have EARNED my salary. I AM NOT A UN CASUALTY. Not yet, anyway. But I am not sure if I have it in me to go through another leadership/managerial TREASON, so this C. fellow better be good, like they say he is, because my comrades, we are now in that predicament for which I believe Jews have invented a curse identifying the condition: "May the G_d give you, and then take it all away".

The Art Of Supervision Is Getting Average People Do Extraordinary Work, my former boss in UN HQ in Zagreb 1992 shared with me (Thank you, D.). Imagine the possibilities with having extraordinary people at work, WORKING?

To Mr. E, our Staff Welfare Officer, who has helped me tremendously couple of weeks ago (I feel his dedication and help went beyond the call of duty, but he disagrees), I offer an apology for showering him with cc-ed or other messages this morning and an explanation that this is so because on one hand I am not sure what it is that he needs from me now and on the other (I am ashamed to say) I enjoy the attention. But, Mr. E, what you say goes.

Thank you.

S.
xx_Neesha (that's my ghetto alias)