Day four of sinus headache hell.
Was aware that had become somewhat persnickety as result of never-ending, torturous pain, but clearly had not noticed the extent of my lashings-out until witnessed officemate constructing safety barricade out of manilla folders. Perhaps has reason to fear, as had just finished explaining plan to develop some serious Darth Vader skills and start crushing windpipes from fifty feet.
You should really learn to control your frustration. And take an Advil. Or five.
I did. Not working. And I don't think you understand, she-who-is-not-real.
That's a valid point. But really, how wise was it to unleash your wrath on J yesterday?
Like he didn't have that coming. And more.
He was joking. You nearly tore out his trachea.
So? It was a mean joke. And honestly, how often do I go completely irrational on him? I figure, history considered, he's been lucky. Same with these office schmucks. I'm sure they're just blaming it on PMS anyway.
If they saw you scarfing down that lasagna, they'd have no doubts...
Can I put you on hold?
What?
Hold. Don't speak anymore. I'm going to go get some ice cream. And when I come back, I want you to have gotten frustrated and gone away. Capiche?