If the group app reflects the brain size of the average person in this 'living' group, the quotient simply drops. That far is clear to me. Man, man, man…. What nonsense is being spread here these days. Contentless drivel which does not exceed the level of the Fabeltjeskrant by far.
Emojis or dull, retired lingo balls with tongues, thumbs, winks, should give the verbal diarrhea a direction. In the unlikely event that this is misinterpreted by neighbours, colleagues or all participants of the app for group sex, or neighborhood sex - a very nice combination of these. Except on Tuesdays, because then the following applies in this street:Make love not war.
You're the first and probably not the last to need the semi-physical expressions of a lingo ball to prevent worse suffering. The text in between is almost irrelevant. Placing the correct yellow emo ball behind it prevents a busy practice at Psycho the emergency telephone. The family dinner with Bert (without a banana in his ear) can then stop making TV. The edifying, pluriform EO finally subtly gets rid of the smooth chatter with the well-known foot in the door.
Even on a business level, with business cell phones, those horror groups appear. Traffic jams and pictures with tile wisdom about the number of laundry items to be folded away. Not to mention the whole of Holland baking misery. But then with photos of the misfires of your colleagues who impose themselves on your eye sockets. Too fit and too bad. By muting those group app notifications for at least a year, you won't make it anymore.
You have to go along with it, because oh woe if you leave the group, you will either have a colleague or your manager over you. The latter wouldn't be wrong in principle, had it been a man with luscious dark hair. Possibly with a bun, which you brutally pull into his cave. However, you do not want this with an almost 1.90 meter long blond phoenix with legs that twist around you like an anaconda in a stranglehold. At least not me.
Even worse is if you are randomly, unwantedly added back to the group app. About humiliation and being allowed to speak one's own opinion. In combination I would argue for a euthanasia declaration, but for that you need a certain legal capacity. And the right age, otherwise you will be declared unfit. To request it then. Too young and incapable of anything, I'm not even starting that mill. Do not feel like it anymore. Autumn depression or something.
In short, I wanted to make the statement in 'our own colleague group app'. Once again I appear to be the one who, because of the message 'Pietje Puk has left the group', behaves as if I storm out of the room in a house full of visitors and slam the door hard.
I don't even make a statement thanked 😉 .
Sensitive? Apparently. Really, I have darlings from colleagues. Sometimes. Furthermore, I am of course very involved, dutiful, always available and equally disciplined. But darlings, unfortunately I can do very well without you on the days that I am not working. And no, no drama now please, the love is not over! Come on now, repack. I just want some me-time, without the so-called social bullshit from you sorcerers and howler monkeys.
If I want to socialize, bond and connect with you, we're going to have a nice chat. Looking each other in the eyes and getting drunk. Regardless of the time or in which pub. During some multi-exciting department outing. Okay? That's my adrenaline now. I don't need skydiving or ice-karting.
Idea:Let's hire a change manager for this obstinate girl! Someone who openly grabs me under my skirt while grabbing his daily cup of coffee from Mr. What Else's espresso machine. While touching my nipples, and then continues on its way in a stunned mood. Is that an idea? Or is this going too far? Just ask in the group app... or is this more something for #metoo?
