I guess I forgot to write in any of my posts about The Bitch I Work With that I might have encouraged her behavior. Oops. Right after Part One when she told everyone to shut the fuck up in the office, I sent her an email saying that she was going to have a hard time getting those douche bags to stop talking about fucking hockey. And then in that same email, I might have pointed out to her that their talking about hockey wasn’t nearly as bad as “having a horse eat an apple in your ear very loudly” while you try to work. Haha. I guess I put the bee in her bonnet that encouraged her to lash out against the Chewer in Part Two of the saga. Yyyes. Dance, puppets, dance!

You see, I figured if this girl was a crazy ass bitch on the very first day of work and had the audacity to yell at everyone to be quiet, I needed to get on her good side. (That’s the same logic that got Benutty and I in trouble…it resulted in our sordid friendships with Nick. Keep your frenemies close). So I shot off that email in an attempt to be like, “Hey Regina George. I hear ya. Try not to stab me in the back. I bring an olive branch. And I too am a mean girl and my father, the inventor of the Toaster Streudel, would really want us to be friends.” I also think it was that initial email that spared me her wrath when I was eating my “rosemary foccaccia” cough drops. You see, my little farm animals, you have to be several steps ahead of the game. Use the drama to your advantage until it’s just you and the bitch left standing and then become friends with her or eat her, depending on how many calories you already had eaten that day.