I can be pettier than you. Try me.

I'm in a cussin' mood today, bitches.

It's because I worked in the office yesterday, which always puts me in a foul temper. Yesterday it was especially bad because they did the birthday cake and singing thing, which I despise. Fucking PHONIES. I hate them all. ALL! Especially this one bitch. Let me tell you:

There's this girl who hates me. I've suspected it for a while from the way she NEVER says hello to me and avoids working with me. Now, this would be just fine, because our paths rarely cross and her work SUCKS ASS ANYWAY, because she is a lazy fuck with no eye for detail. So when I suspected that she was avoiding working with me, I was momentarily puzzled, but then overcome with JOY, because she SUCKS SO MUCH.

But still, I thought maybe I was imagining her hatred, because I tend to be paranoid and overreact a lot. Besides, I have never been anything but nice to this girl, so I could think of nothing I had done to warrant her coldness. I chalked it up to my overactive imagination/persecution complex and left it at that.

Yesterday, however, at the PHONY BIRTHDAY PARTY CELEBRATION, my suspicions were confirmed when she REFUSED TO SING with everyone else AND WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDN'T SIGN MY BIRTHDAY CARD.

Talk about petty. Is that not petty and childish? IT IS, AND YOU KNOW IT.

WHEN IS HER BIRTHDAY? is all I want to know, because I cannot WAIT to NOT sign her fucking card and NOT sing. Better yet, I WILL sign her card, and I'll write, "Dear ______, I hate you too, but I am still signing your birthday card because I am not a petty bitch. P.S. You tan too darkly in the summer, and although you think it looks good, it doesn't, and you will get skin cancer. (Not that I'm hoping you do, because I'm not THAT evil. I just thought you should know. Smiley face.)"

Seriously though, I don't care that she hates me. I DON'T. I'm a grown-ass woman and grown-ass women don't acknowledge pettiness, they rise above it. So I don't care. At all. Not even a smidge.

Sigh.