Diary of a Mad Editor

The poet who wrote to complain that I didn’t format his poem correctly still is not happy! Can you believe this shit? I made the changes he’d requested. But, no . . . apparently the formatting is still not correct:

I don’t know why this has to be so complicated.  I guess it’s Gmail’s fault for screwing with the formatting. . .  It bothers me to bother you but every writer wants to see their writing the way it was written.  I can understand your exasperation; so you can possibly understand mine?  If it can’t be fixed, then please just take it down.  I appreciate your time with this.
-Tom

Okay, for the last time, I’ve reformatted the poem based on the version he sent in his current email (different only in respect to a few line breaks). But here’s the thing: Why in the fuck did he not just send the poem in a word file to begin with? It’s a simple thing. If I cannot expect him to send his poem in the proper format to begin with — to check his work accordingly before sending it out willy-nilly, then why should he expect me to format the poem properly? That’s point one. Point two is that, as editor, I reserve the right to format the poem as best as I see fit. And there was really nothing wrong with how I’d formatted the poem in the first place or how I’d reformatted it in the second place. So, I don’t really think he can understand why I’ve become so exasperated. Fuck it. I would take his poem down save for the fact that I’ve arguably spent more time on his poem at this juncture than he has. Enough.  I’m off to the gym to reduce belly fat. The poet in question might consider doing some mental exercise to remove some fat from his thick skull.