Dear colleagues,
Do not imply that I am prettier than you in a nasty way. Do not tell me that I don’t need to be on a diet. I’M NOT ON A DIET. I like salad. Perhaps if you liked salad you would not need to be on a diet. Additionally, I’ve gained nearly 30 pounds since college so if I want to go on a diet, you should understand. I am 50 or more pounds lighter and 20 years younger, I’m going to be cuter. I bet when you were 25 you were pretty cute too.
Please do not disparage my cute outfits. Yes I have nice clothes and accessories. Due to the availability of self-esteem and cheap birth control methods in this modern age I have been able to not get pregnant. The dearth of piano lessons, Abercrombie Kids denim minis, and orthodontist bills keeps my lifestyle nice and cheap. I can spoil myself, not my children, so don’t act like I’m behaving selfishly. We all make choices in life. I bet you wouldn’t trade your rug-rats for a Coach handbag so don’t act butt-hurt about no having one.
I don’t want your wastrel nephew, son, or godson. If nobody else wants them I assure you that I am not going to buck the trend.
I also don’t need to be reassured about not being married. I’ve been dodging that bullet for years, so don’t bug me. I don’t know if I will get married and it is certainly not your business to discuss my fictitious children. It is up to my fictitious husband and myself to determine whether or not we want to face the immense life-long responsibility of parenthood, or to simply get a dog and spend a lot of time traveling and buying cute shoes.
PS- Don’t touch me.
PPS- Don’t hit on me.
PPPS- Don’t sneak up behind me in my cube.
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