THE EXCLAMATION WAR

The boss told her to "get over it" after her mother died, and then complained that the death was "creating extra work for him."

Her mom had died last month. The boss, who had already been difficult for years, made the grief worse with a response so cold it landed as the final straw. The poster can't quit right now, but they are already taking steps toward a better role and trying to keep the peace until then.

So the emails changed.

They still start politely. The poster still opens with a cheery first line, the kind of thing most people would barely notice: "Good morning!" "I hope you're having a nice day!" But one small habit disappeared. No more exclamation points in emails to the boss.

Not in the subject line, not in the sign-off, not tucked into a friendly sentence to soften the tone.

After more than a decade at the same workplace, the shift is obvious to coworkers. It's subtle enough to sound silly, and pointed enough that the boss seems to notice every time. The replies start coming back frazzled, sharp around the edges, with something the poster had never seen from him before: exclamation points everywhere.

He had never used them like that. Now they show up in almost every email.

The poster says the change is bothering him, and that, in its own strange way, has become its own source of satisfaction. "It's so stupid but I can tell it's breaking him," they said.

The strange little war is still playing out in the inbox. The poster is not escalating, not quitting, not making a scene. They are just keeping things civil while quietly stripping the enthusiasm out of every message meant for the man who told them to move on from their mother's death.

And the boss, once the person who could bark "get over it" and leave it at that, now seems to be answering each clean, clipped email like he's the one who's come undone.