Since when don’t Cheeseheads understand English?

Every now and then I wind up with an Einstein client who makes me realize how desperately I want to stop designing websites and do absolutely nothing except watch “People’s Court,” write Howdygram posts, label spice jars and fold socks. My current Einstein suffers from an inability to understand compound sentences and pay attention. Two weeks ago she told me she intends to shut down her website (no problem) and transfer her domain name to a new registrar (easy). I sent her the following email in response: “Anything you’ve got stored online in webmail will disappear, so before we put your domain transfer in motion you’d better set up Microsoft Outlook or make plans to offload copies of all your email.” Ten minutes later she responds that all of her email is already in Outlook and she’s in great shape. So ... one week later, on the date that Einstein specifies, I unpublish her website and transfer her domain to GoDaddy. I figure I’ll never hear from her again, and I’m absolutely fine with that.

Ahh, but the plot thickens! This morning — eight full days after we transferred her domain — Miss Cheesehead (she’s in Wisconsin) sends me the following frantic ALL-CAPS email: WHY CAN’T I ACCESS THE EMAIL ARCHIVES AND FOLDERS I LEFT IN WEBMAIL?!

I write back to Cheesehead and tell her that she’s probably out of luck with this, at which time she proceeds to have a cow — no pun intended — and shrieks: YOU’D BETTER DO SOMETHING IMMEDIATELY BECAUSE I CAN’T LOSE TWO YEARS OF EMAIL! Followed by four exclamation points! I hate multiple exclamation points! Since there’s nothing whatsoever I can do about her missing email archives personally, I try to reach my hosting company’s tech support department but eventually get sick of holding for the dumbbells in Mumbai and hang up. I figure, holy crap, I’m not getting paid for this any more, let Cheesehead waste her own time negotiating with India! So I email the number and tell her to give it a shot. That was two hours ago; she’s probably still on hold.

Please, can I retire now? Can I have your permission to dump the rest of my moron clients from outer space and get on with my life? (Respond here.)

Since food has always been the answer to my problems (and the reason for most of them, too, ironically) I think dinner sounds like a damn good idea right now. And I’ve got a bevy of mouth-watering options from which to choose: 1) Loma Linda fake meat in a can; 2) leftover egg foo young from China City; 3) a large slab of low-carb cheesecake; 4) Five-Minute Stupid Soup; and 5) a Schwan’s frozen vegetable omelet. I’m currently leaning towards numbers 2 and 3, but not necessarily in that order because senior citizens are allowed to eat dessert first. Thank you for reading this.