What’s also true? Squeaky wheel gets the grease.
(and I can’t spell-check, since my previous post title said “Pissed of” instead of “Pissed off” for a good hour before I noticed it!)
Alright. So my words are more powerful than I realized, and moved faster than I could have truthfully imagined. I’m sure a part of the problem with the whole shirt fiasco is that I felt helpless (since I didn’t personally place my own order) and the only logical action I could think to take was to shout from my roof-top.
And I know it’s just a shirt, and it’s just 25 dollars. And neither is worth ending the world over. And while my previous post did not at all convey this next thought properly… I still trusted 100% that I would receive my shirt… eventually.
In closing, Rachel, I don’t hate you, please don’t ever think that!
