I choose…

Posted on FB 11/28/11:
Dear coworker across the way –

1. Stop going through the paperwork on my desk when I’m not around. If you need something or are looking for something, please ask. I give you that courtesy. I deserve the same.

2. I can’t answer two lines at once and since you’re happy to sit at your desk pouty-lipped and pissy, make yourself useful and answer the phone when it rings.

3. Are you going to be like this all week? ‘Cause everyone’s got problems but I don’t drag mine all over the office and darken your workday, do I?

4. Grow up, please. You’re 15 years older than I am and you’re acting 15 years younger than I am. Just… grow up.

Begin rant…

Some of you might recognize this from my FB page – written frustration aimed at my coworker and her snotty attitude.

I’m sorry to say her attitude hasn’t improved. If anything, it’s gotten worse.


I feel like I’m working a four-year-old. That’s saying a lot because The Kid is four and she’s not nearly as tempermental. Outspoken and stubborn, yes, but not as tempermental as my 40-something year old coworker.

B and I talked about this last night, and he prayed specifically for me before we went to bed. So far though, I’ve not had a moment of peace since she walked in at 830a.

I’m not sure what I did to piss her off but I’m sure I can fix it if she’d get off her high horse and tell me. But instead we’re at an impasse – I’m clueless as to what I did wrong, and she continues to be a first class pain.

Truthfully, I can’t remember the last time her erratic emotions have gotten the best of me. I’ve learned, with her, to let it slide off my shoulders and just do what I do. So why does it bother me now?

No clue.

I like to settle my workplace differences from the get-go. I don’t run to my bosses and cry like a two-year-old who just had their candy stolen. I don’t let others fight my workplace battles for me. I meet the challenge and face it. I’m capable of standing on my own two feet, owning up to my mistakes, and taking the blame. I don’t cower behind my my desk, my bosses, or anything else if the blame is mine.

Sure, I could have a hissy fit and pitch a tantrum. And, yes, I could act like her – slam my desk drawers, hum annoyingly, make snide remarks, throw glares across the room.

Don’t get me wrong, it’d be incredibly satisfying to do any of those.

Honestly? What the hell does doing any of those things solve?

They solve nothing.


Am I perfect? Hell no. Am I blameless? Again, hell no.

But I do my work, I do my job. I’m good at what I do and I don’t have to say it. My actions speak louder than words in the office, and if you have a problem with what I do/don’t do, then tell me.

But, please. For my sake, stop sulking in your corner and acting like a child.

For your sake, grow up because you’re only making yourself look that much more ridiculous to me and anyone else who sees you here.

End rant…
Follow up…

When B and I talked about this, it made me feel worlds better. And I realize after writing this rant that to continue letting her behavior get to me is a choice.

So, I choose to put on a smile and do my job. I choose to not change a damn thing about how I treat her or look at her – with courtesy and respect. I choose to not let her negative, high and mighty attitude darken my day any further.

Because, think about it, if I do it means she’s won and I’m left miserable for no good reason.


No thanks.


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