Dear Dairy,
There's this woman where I work (I think you know where this is going). She is single and bitter, and always glares at me. She also has a skater-girl haircut circa 1991. Also she has this strange defensiveness about why she's dieting. She'll say how she can't have a donut or that she's going to the gym, but in the same breath say, "I know I'm not fat or anything..." I'm like, I think you better look again, tubby.
Anyway, right now she is talking to a woman who sits near me. About her cats. In GREAT detail. Way to play right into that stereotype! What's worse, they have people names. Like "Pete". So at first I thought she was talking about her man. Then I realized that no, it's her cat who is peeing on the futon.
Did I mention her whiney-nasal voice?
Love, Fluffy
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