Replies to emails
No. No I haven't booked a room for tomorrow's meeting. I thought it would be a lot more fun if we just trailed listlessly around the office for six hours on the off-chance that a room might suddenly become available.
Yes, you're quite right. I have completely changed my mind about the technical detail of the twelve-page advice I sent you two weeks ago. The hypothetical comparator I referred to in the post-telephone-conference email wasn't intended to refer to an entirely different case in which both sides had behaved in a straightforward and uncontentious manner but was instead - as you correctly deduced - a veiled reference to the case in hand. How clever of you to notice. And, yes, when I change my professional advice, I do prefer to do so by vague implication rather than by definitive and unequivocal statement. This is because I so enjoy returning from a day off to read half a dozen emails in which the three of you have wound one another up into devising increasingly bizarre and panic-stricken theories about what I might have been implying. It would have spoiled all my fun had one of you just phoned me on receipt of my email to check whether the hypothetical comparator was anything more sinister than just a, erm, hypothetical comparator. A hypothetical comparator which, moreover, you had asked me to supply during our telephone conference. No, really. It's fine. I'm perfectly calm. It's not as though there are serious amounts of money stake, after all.
Ah, yes. You seem to have missed the section of the email in which I made it clear that I was only asking for the moment whether you would be free to attend in April. You know, the bit which said that the decision as to date and location had been made in today's meeting, and that further administrative and logistical information would be forthcoming at a later date when the relevant decisions had been made. So, no: right now this minute I don't know whether there will be a parking space there for you, or how many materials you might or might not be expected to take with you. It's flattering that you perceive me to be omniscient, but I'm afraid I have yet to perfect my scrying technique.
Yes, you're quite right. I have completely changed my mind about the technical detail of the twelve-page advice I sent you two weeks ago. The hypothetical comparator I referred to in the post-telephone-conference email wasn't intended to refer to an entirely different case in which both sides had behaved in a straightforward and uncontentious manner but was instead - as you correctly deduced - a veiled reference to the case in hand. How clever of you to notice. And, yes, when I change my professional advice, I do prefer to do so by vague implication rather than by definitive and unequivocal statement. This is because I so enjoy returning from a day off to read half a dozen emails in which the three of you have wound one another up into devising increasingly bizarre and panic-stricken theories about what I might have been implying. It would have spoiled all my fun had one of you just phoned me on receipt of my email to check whether the hypothetical comparator was anything more sinister than just a, erm, hypothetical comparator. A hypothetical comparator which, moreover, you had asked me to supply during our telephone conference. No, really. It's fine. I'm perfectly calm. It's not as though there are serious amounts of money stake, after all.
Ah, yes. You seem to have missed the section of the email in which I made it clear that I was only asking for the moment whether you would be free to attend in April. You know, the bit which said that the decision as to date and location had been made in today's meeting, and that further administrative and logistical information would be forthcoming at a later date when the relevant decisions had been made. So, no: right now this minute I don't know whether there will be a parking space there for you, or how many materials you might or might not be expected to take with you. It's flattering that you perceive me to be omniscient, but I'm afraid I have yet to perfect my scrying technique.
The Editor
1 Comments:
Your crystal ball must have retired due to overwork. Sounds like 'the others' expect you to perform mind-reading miracles on a daily basis.
I completely sympathise with your annoyance and frustration about this issue!
Your colleagues' queries do deserve a sarcastic reply in respect of that hypothetical comparator, but as I don't know anything about them, I better shut up now!
Angie xx
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