Since someonein the blogosphere, I wont say who, has essentially guilt tripped me into blogging, here goes.
I’m kinda glad that she did, because I have been meaning to blog, I just have had no motivation to do so. I’m still struggling, just writing this post. I started it yesterday for cripes sake.
Being that I have been at my J.O.B. for almost a year, I figured by now that things would have calmed down. But I was wrong. My mortal enemy has only gotten braver and worse. She has been driving me to a point where the things she makes me think, make me not like myself very much. She brings out the absolute worst in me.
This is just an example of the shit that she does to piss me off and why I think she does them:
- She hums. Not an actual song, just incessant humming. In my direction. When she walks by me, when I drop something off at her desk, she hums at me. She does this because I play my radio at my desk and sometimes sing along. I don’t sound hideous and get compliments on my voice. This makes her very angry.
- She talks on her cell phone all day and just so happens to be talking shit about me. In Spanish. She thinks I don’t understand her. Bitch, I may be half, but the half of me that is Mexican, will beat the fuck out of you.
- She just HAD to go Go-Cart Racing. Alone. “To check it out for her church group”. She’s jealous because a bunch of us went from work during lunch and she wasn’t invited. Now she wont stop talking about how much fun she had. Alone. Also, I hung up my results from my laps, she had to do the same. FYI, some of the guys went today and didn’t invite me because they didn’t want her to overhear them and tag along. I said next time, EMAIL ME. Shit.
- Bitch went out and conned her doc into giving her a handicap placard. Now she parks RIGHT IN FRONT of the office. The rest of us have to walk. FAR. She has “circulatory problems” that give her blood clots. I know she’s got problems, but this is just another cry for attention. In this week alone, she has told the story of why she has the placard 15 times. I’m counting. She complains that she is sick of everyone asking her, but her explanation turns into a 30 minute story for anyone unfortunate enough to ask.
- She walks by my desk and she stifles a laugh. She does it when I walk by her too. She does this because she is petty and immature and a bitch. Laughing at me?? Oh now THAT is a good one. Bitch must not own a mirror.
- She hung up a schedule for a minor league baseball team in her cube. She did this for two reasons. One is that she hates that all the guys come talk baseball with me. I’m the token Dodger fan of the office. I know my shit. This makes her mad. Second reason? I have the Dodger schedule hanging in my cube. She’s reaching for attention with this one.
- The typing! Oh lord. She prints, practices, and memorizes online typing tests so that she can get 100% and hang up the results. She got mad because a couple people, including our boss, always mention that I type fast. When I get going, I get going. She has to cheat her way through a typing test in the hopes of getting a compliment.
You know, if she just ignored me like I do her, we would be fine. Perfect. But she doesn’t. She just goes on and on and on all day. Just 15 minuts ago she was talking shit about me taking an hour lunch to go racing. Bitch doesn’t know that I worked late just to do that because I only get a half hour lunch. She talked shit yesterday about my breaks and how she never gets them. She can go. No one is stopping her. I just asume that her 20 minute phone conversations every hour on the hour would count towards some kind of break. She isn’t working. She cant multitask for shit.
Gah! I am so over her. I have asked to be moved away from her, otherwise I’ll go off. And make her cry. And look like the big bitch of the office.
I am a big bitch. Just not in the office. But if she keeps this up, Ima have to take my earrings off and pull my hair into a bun, if you get my drift.
Thats how we roll.