From: [email protected]
Subject: Nurse Jones Drowns in Mailbox Accident! News at 11!
Date: 26 Oct 92 18:03:35 GMT
From Nurse Jones,
I don't believe my mailbox! There is no *way* I could answer all my
mail. It keeps scrolling off the bottom of the stack faster than I can
answer it. And here I thought I would be lucky if there was anyone
left who remembered me.
I really hope that noone will be offended if I send out a generic
thankyou. The generic message was: Welcome Home. Followed by
quantities of hugs. I'm trying to answer, but I keep losing mail.
Jeez. (*Sniff/blush*) Hugs like that don't deserve a 'Dear Occupant'
response, but I don't know what else I can do. My mailbox overflowed
almost immediately and I'm on a 12 hour "4&3" shift at the hospital so
I'm only going to be able to check my mail irregularly. (I got the
Blob's job, BTW, so I'm busier than ever. Anyone remember The Blob? If
so, I will gladly accept high-fives. Lapsed Unitarians: 1,
Hyperbaptists: 0). The account I have is pretty primitive. Small
mailbox and I can't upload to the account or store files, even, so my
connection to ASB is tenuous at best. I have to get Jay to e-mail my
posts to me so I can >forward them to ASB. Which I will try So look
for an experimental attempted post right after this.
A lot of my posts will be out of date, BTW. I kept writing while I was
away. I'm just going to hack bits out of my diary. Which is a stack of
diskettes. I'll start at the bottom of the stack so my posts will be
roughly chronological. I'm incredibly disorganized. You should see me
trying to get out of the house in the morning. If it wasn't for the
last minute I'd never get anything done.
Really, I can't tell you how good it is to hear from old friends
again. Some old friends I didn't even know I had. It really *is* like
a homecoming.
I just realized this place is a lot more like a family should be than
most families are. We discuss intimate stuff, call each other names,
kiss and make up, criticize thoughtlessly, apologize sincerely, never
speak to each other again, bare our souls, share our troubles, tell
our most intimate secrets, bore each other, excite each other, shout,
cry, stamp our feet, bang our spoons on our high chairs, throw food
and try to take away each other's wizcurity blankets.
These aren't things you do in everyday real.life, you know. These are
things families do.
My small mailbox makes me nervous, though. Last March some of my
outgoing mail bounced from wizvax (I think it was down, temporarily)
back to the local sysop and she took a personal interest in my
"explicit" posts and tried to track me down and out me. When she
failed, the most she could do was take away my account. So now you
know. That's the bad news.
I wish those posts had been black holed instead of bounced.
The good news is that "Faggots Must Die!!!" is finally dedthred.
But then the bad news is that the cliques thread is back. Paranoia
about cliques? On ASB? *Shocking!* You could have knocked me over with
a feather.
But then the good news is that Saltgirl is back. And in the middle of
the clique controversy. I *love* ASB.
Seriously: If I don't answer your mail, I apologize. I really didn't
expect to be so swamped.
Sorry: My mind is going in a thousand different directions at once.
I'm just so *excited* after making contact with everyone again.
Maybe Jay can help me figure out a way to print out my mail before I
lose it. I really haven't thought this out very well, have I?
The *last* thing I need is more paper. I thought computers were
supposed to cut down on the tons of paper I have to deal with. The
only difference is that now I have tons of paper with holes in the
edge.
I can't *imagine* what I would do with hard copy e-mail.
-*-
Umph! She plumps the last crate of e-mail on the back of her U-haul,
forces the protesting doors shut and slumps against them. Springs
creak under the loaded trailer.
The U-haul clerk approaches. "Uh, Miss?" He's leafing through a fan-
fold of printout.
"What? What?" Nurse Jones is nervous. She's been nearly outed once
already by problems with her mail.
"I think you dropped this..." His eyes widen as he reads.
"Who? Me?" She clears her throat and lowers her voice to within
the range of human hearing. "Ahem. Uh, no, I don't think so... Nope.
Not me, nosiree.... Definitely not. Never saw it before. Ha ha. Ha.
Um, ahem... Ha." She cleverly covers her near-hysteria with a
nonchalant laugh and a wave of her hand to demonstrate her complete
lack of concern.
"Say... what *is* this, anyway? What's this 'ASB' they mention here?"
"ASB? Um, would you mind spelling that?"
-*-
I'm gonna *need* a trailer if this keeps up... And a big sign for the
back. Gotta get a sign.
Nurse Jones,
Danger:
Weird Load.
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