Dear Stupid Entitled Snowflake:
When you wrote an email to me on the last day of add/drop, asking to add my course because the hybrid section you're in isn't working out for you, I was in the ER being diagnosed with a 6.5mm kidney stone--after being up all night vomiting and feeling like Gd had personally decided to kill me--so I didn't get back to you. They gave me Percocet for the pain, and I kind of phased out once I got home.
When you wrote again on Sunday to repeat your (misspelled) request, I was fairly lucid, and I replied that it was too late to add my class because there is no way to get you caught up, since I had to have surgery (this past Tuesday) to remove the stone, and would be out of school this entire week. A week during which my classes were doing their work online. I was nice about it. I suggested that if you were really struggling with the hybrid format, you should drop the course and take it face-to-face in the fall, and I wished you good luck.
So why the fuck did I get an email from my friend the associate dean on Thursday asking if I could add your sorry ass to my course? I am looped to the gills on Percocet, but it strikes me as dumber than shit to try to go over my head to get what you want, and risk having to deal with me, pissed off and entirely unable to help you "get caught up on stuff" because I have been out of class myself for almost two weeks and have a ton of my own work to "get caught up on." Seriously. Who the fuck do you think you are?
Thankfully, the associate dean really is my friend, and it really is to my discretion whether to add or not add you to my roster, which is already over the CCCC recommended cap of 20 for a composition course (just like my other 2 sections!). Plus I have tenure. So bite my shiny, burnt metal ass, Snowflake. And you better hope that if you sign up for one of my fall sections that I'll have forgotten your little attempt at an end-run around my entirely reasonable refusal to accommodate you.
Professor Burnt Chrome
PS. At least you did not email me on the day of my surgery (as two of my very special flakes did) to ask me to “go over” your paper. So there is that.