20 February 1991, 10:20 p.m.

To whomever is lucky enough to read this letter:

Funny, how our past catches up with us.  Sometimes I wonder if we could stop the future and just spend time repairing the mistakes of the past.  I guess not, huh?  Too bad cause all this mess could have been avoided if you had taken back most of what you did or said to me.

As you know by now, several of your employees have died of unknown causes.

[I wish I could tell you everything that’s going through my head right now but I’m afraid I haven’t got the time.  It’s a beautiful day outside and I must take care of the herb garden.  Make hay while the sun shines and all that.]

I remember when I first started working for you guys.  What’s-her-face from marketing told me what a wonderful opportunity I would have working for an  environmental services company.  Her words still ring in my head: “Well, working for us sure will be fun, I can tell you that.  But I think you’ll find your background is an asset for you here.  Biology is important in many fields.  As we move into sampling, we’ll need people who understand what kind of microorganisms are floating around in sewer systems.  That’s why I encourage you to pursue your master’s degree.  You can never know too much.”  Did she really believe I would fall for that?

Only, you won’t be able to find me.  I’m packing up my bag of “medicinal” herbs and moving somewhere away from a town that’s more concerned about defense budgets  than the people in it.  Before I go, I want to share my reasons for helping along your company’s attrition rate.  I also want to chew on a couple of more jimsonweed seeds.  (Despite what the medical books say, if you grow your own you can get a pretty good gauge of how harmful or useful the so-called toxic plants can be.)

I’m tired of wasting my time thinking up words and phrases to write in this letter.  Instead, I’m going to let my past do the talking.  A diary can say a lot about a person.

April 9 – My boss does not appreciate my biology degree. All Patty wants are pretty reports for the customer.  I wish I could show her that I have more in my head than little cog wheels that spit out numbers like a computer.

Bob asked me out yesterday.  I want to go out with him but I don’t want to risk an office romance even if he’s good-looking and not a creep.  I wish someone could tell me what to do.

April 15 – Mom and Dad called.  I want to go home to see them but I always seem to be too busy with work.  I sure miss them.

April 20 – Have started an herb garden in the window sill with oregano, purple ruffled basil and thyme.  Should really make the guys think I can cook. Ha!

May 1 – Bob is a jerk.  Says he’ll tell everyone I’m a slut if I don’t go out with him again.  Do guys really think sex is everything?  I know he’s probably a nice guy overall but I refuse to go out with a guy who uses sex as leverage.

Midterms coming up.  Can’t decide if I should study at home or at work.  Patty always finds something for me to do at work but I like studying at my desk.  She knows how important these classes are for me.  Why does she keep pressuring me?

May 11 – I found this wonderful book on herbs.  Not only does it show how to grow and prepare herbs for cooking but it has a section on medicinal uses.  If I can find the right combination, I could cure cancer or something.  It’s an idea, anyway.

May 18 – One week later and what have I got to show for myself?  I haven’t been on a date for 3 weeks and classes have been a real bitch.

May 20 – If I have to do this data analysis for much longer, I’m going to scream.  I can’t take this pressure much longer.  I’ve got to find a way to relax.

June 20 – I got A’s in all 3 classes!  I’ll celebrate by eating some psilocybin mushrooms with some friends this weekend.  Cal has a ruby laser so we should have some fun.

June 24 – I feel guilty for calling in sick but I ate too many mushrooms.  I can still see tracers two days later as if my hand was a comet streaking by my face although my thought processes are not as intense (I’m also very tired).

I now realize that my life is a dead end.  Either I go or something else gives.  I can’t take this lifestyle of a worthless job and night classes without some means of relief.  Tomorrow will tell.

June 30 – Several days have passed since my last entry.  I have so much to say and very little time to put these words down.  I have come up with a plan.  Not only do I have a purpose in life but I’ve found a way to get out of this job.  I went back over the herb book I bought and found that some herbs have lethal capabilities if taken in large doses.  Since I signed that contract at work that says I can’t work for a competitor company for the next three years I’ve decided to go on my own.  I’m going to start a mail-order business for herbal poisons.  The ads will say that I can get rid of any pests in people’s households or workplaces.  Before I start the business, I’ve got to test my products.  I think I’ll start with my boss.  Nobody likes her anyway.

July 10 – I’ve found that by sprinkling small aamounts of powdered foxglove leaves in the coffee, I can cause the heavy coffee drinkers to vomit during the day.  Because so few people in my area drink lots of coffee, no one around me has noticed the number of sick people at work.  This gives me more time to test my herbs.

July 24 – I’m tired but I want to talk to someone right now.  Of all the people, why did Blayne have to eat the candy?  I had been saving it in a desk drawer in my office to test on the right person.  Why did he have to go through my desk to die?  A car wreck would have been less cruel.  At least now I know that hemlock really kills but Blayne. . . he was a bit nerdy but he didn’t deserve to die.  Oh, god, what have I become?  I’d rather have killed my boyfriend – he deserves to die more than poor, innocent Blayne.

July 28 – I placed my first ad in the back of a local gardening magazine.  I hope it’s true what they say that 3% of the people who see an ad, respond to it.

August 2 – What a pity that a small country like Kuwait has to be a target of a petty tyrant like Saddam Hussein.  Don’t people know that the higher you climb, the harder you fall?

August 7 – Patty really gets on my nerves sometimes.  Today she called me self-centered and egotistical.  She’s the one who’s more concerned about the way people see her at work than I am.

August 9 – My first order!  All the way from Dothan, too.  Listen to this request: “Please send me an ounce of your pennyroyal oil.  I have a pest in my house, similar to fleas, that spends all my money.  You claim that pennyroyal oil tastes like mint and kills all household pests.  Well, I hope my little pest likes mint tea.”

August 10 – Order #2.  More pennyroyal oil.

August 12 – Another tragic death at work (no cynicism here) – my boss.  She ate the grape jelly (mixed with a little mayapple) I put on her desk.  I got the idea from a “Murder, She Wrote” episode and replaced the jar with a clean grape jelly jar on the floor.  The paramedics say she choked to death.  I couldn’t help but nod my head in agreement cause I know she choked to death on her own words.

August 15 – Since Bob has left me alone for several months now, I have decided to give him a present.  While I was at the farmers’ market last Saturday, a lady from New Orleans sold me an aphrodisiac called yohimbe.  I looked up its usefulness and found that it not only “causes a tingling sensation in the genitals” but it also causes “psychic reactions resembling anxiety.”  Needless to say, Bob will be anxiously awaiting his next date.  [Sometimes, I feel like I’m in a bad horror film.]

September 21 – The past month has been a busy one.  I’ve been busting my butt at work during the day and harvesting all my herbs at night filling orders.  I wish I could say more but I’m pooped.

November 4 – The count is now 4.  The last one to die was Bob who ate some of the nightshade berries I had added to a bowl of blueberries in the break room.  I find it rather fitting that he died from the berries of the plant whose nickname is belladonna or “beautiful lady.”  We can’t really call him a lady killer, can we?

November 26 – Mom and Dad think something is the matter with me.  I’m not their little girl anymore and I think they don’t like that.

December 12 – Work is getting slow.  I hope I don’t have to depend on my mail order business just yet.  Besides, I’ve been there too long.  They wouldn’t fire me.

January 24 – Orders are up and not a moment too soon.  I’m working on a project without a project number to charge to.  I won’t last long at work.

February 12 – Well, the inevitable happened:  they fired me.  Anyway, it’s time to move on before I’m caught with my herbs although owning them is not a crime like with pot or coke or something.  I don’t even think there’s a law against selling toxic herbs for pest control.  Better to be safe than sorry.

I may not have been your best employee but I was one of the best.  So what if I admitted that sewer analysis is not my planned career?  Henry Miller didn’t tell his employers he was going to write “Tropic of Cancer.”

Enough of my words.  I believe my actions have said plenty.

With my deepest regrets,

Renada Lotcyan