Passive-aggression: Behavior in which feelings of aggression are expressed in passive ways as, for example, by online blog posts.

Dear Bitch at Work I Hate (Henceforth Known As BaWIH),

You and I need to clarify some things. Namely, these are:

1) You are not my boss. You aren't even the full-time employee in my department. You are on exactly equal footing with me. If anything, I am higher on the pecking order than you, as I have seniority in the department, as well as The Mills in general. Yet, you insist on tell me how to do my job. Please go fuck yourself with something rusty.

2) Your IQ is roughly similar to the temperature outside today. It is February, and it is below freezing. This means you would need to gain intelligence just to be brain-dead. I hope this terrifies you at least half as much it frightens me. When I talk to you, I can actually feel my brain cells desperately trying to clamber out my ears in a vain attempt to escape your vacuous stupidity. Your obscene number of offspring will undoubtedly be the undoing of the race as we know it, because if that many children carry your genetic material into the future, I estimate it will only be another 4-5 generations before all human beings once again interact using grunts and blunt-force head trauma. You are the downfall of Darwinian evolution.

3) You seem to be under the impression that, when you badmouth me behind my back, it will not get back to me. This is rather unfortunate for you, as you seem to be completely oblivious to the fact that everyone hates you. When you say things about me, these people tell me. This is attributable to the fact that I have with these individuals a social relationship built on mutual respect and admiration. They are known as 'friends' in sociological circles. I have many. You have none. Bear that in mind the next time you make up rumours.

4) You need to stop complaining about everything. It is annoying, it wastes time, and I generally want to force-feed you the heavy duty stapler when you do it. You always marvel at how I manage to accomplish so much work in so little time. My secret: SHUTTING THE FUCK UP FOR TWENTY GODDAMN SECONDS.

5) There's another setting on your makeup mirror. It's called 'daytime'.

While I would go on, literally, for the next four days rambling about how you are unequivocally perversely stupid, and your constant bitchery has classically conditioned me to want to vomit uncontrollably at the sound of your stupid, stupid voice, I will condense my message as best I can. It is simply this:

Your husband doesn't beat you enough.

BaWIH, I have tried many, many times to find a good quality in you somewhere. I have been able to do this with even the people I do not get along with. These qualities are not always immediately evident, but in the end, I always find them.

I pretty much gave up on you when you said I should leave my boyfriend because he has bad knees.

It is with a heavy heart I concede that it is outside lawfulness to fire someone simply because they are a heartless shell of a human being. However, that doesn't mean I cannot hate you, or laugh at you when you say something painfully moronic. And I will forever content myself with the knowledge that I am only 20 years younger than you, but you look old enough to be my grandmother.

Get stabbed,

Robyn
xoxox