F*&# Them.

Got a short and dismissive letter from the llf tonight informing me that my donation was too late and won't be used till next year.

In a heartbeat I went from feeling like I'd made a special, unique, heartfelt contribution to being a pathetic lurking stalker with nothing meaningful to give, burdening them with some trinket they have to look after till their next function.

And I feel even shittier for feeling shitty about them, because I believe in what they do.

I understand they are busy and it's the last minute, but one would think when your whole organization is about helping widows, you could at least be grateful and gracious when one tries (if unsuccessfully) to reach out.

I would print the letter here, but I was intimidated by the privacy clause at the end of the email. It was really just a few sentences that said "Thanks, but you're too late. We'll put it in the closet and pull it out next year."

Nothing about it being lovely. Not "I'm sorry we won't be able to use it." No comment on the story I included or the meaning I attempted to put into it.

Just the stern rebuke of a grade school teacher; "It is unfortunate you were ill, but all late papers receive a failing grade."

You are dismissed.

While I'm certain (well, ok, hopeful) that it was not meant that way, it feels personal. I poured a lot of emotion into the piece, and it took a lot of time because I desperately wanted it to be perfect - to be special. I sprinted toward the finish as fast as I could, but I suppose not fast enough.

I know I'm over-reacting, and I do hope nobody actually reads this (by nobody, I don't mean *you*, I mean *them*) but if you can't be honest, what point is there having a blog?

So while the logical part of my brain understands the decision, the emotional side has just been slapped in the face, and can only say, "Yeah. Well, f*&# them."