Too bad you can’t claim credit. You can’t risk getting into trouble for this.

You’re about to sign out of Facebook when you see Morgan, your office nemesis, add a comment.

Yup. I wrote that, so speculate no further. I thought we could all use a little laugh around the office.

There isn’t a word that captures just how furious you feel. Unless mega-furious counts.

Morgan’s comment starts racking up the likes. Then Bev chimes in–perfect, let him take the…

Wait, she just said  “touche?” With a smiley face? WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?

You’ve never tried it before, but right now, blinded with rage, the only thing you can think of is the weird, hippie abdominal breathing technique your ex used to start doing whenever you were trying to have a fight.

“Hwooooooo…Haaaa. Hwooooooo…Haaaa.”

You sound like Darth Vader doing sprints.

“Hwooooooo Haaaa….Hwooooooo Haaaa.”

Oddly enough, it starts working. You’re starting to feel the tiniest bit more relaxed, when you see a new email from Bev.

I hadn’t eaten lunch yet, I must have been having blood sugar issues! sorry! Thanks to Morgan for dealing with my email in such a smart and witty manner.

Fucking Morgan! Is there anyone in the world you hate more than Morgan?  

“Hwooooooo Haaaa….Hwooooooo Haaaa.”

Nope, still filled with blinding rage.

THE END.


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