Seven Reasons I Can’t Stand My Coworkers, or Why I Wish You’d All Quit
Anyone who follows me on Twitter or knows me in real life, knows that I have a burning hatred for my coworkers. It’s not that they’re bad people; it’s that they’re horrible people. Really, I don’t know how they managed to get hired in the first place.
However, I have found myself having to defend this hatred many times, which is why I have decided to write out a definitive list once and for all about why I hate my co-workers so much.
God forbid that one of them says good morning first. No, they will just stare awkwardly at me with their mouths slightly open until I say it first. Good morning, indeed.
I would take their awkward stares and silences any day over their deathly boring stories. The stories usually span anywhere from 20 minutes to a full-blown hour long tale. Stories of how their toddler crawls and falls and walks (did they expect it not to walk?) Or, my favorite, when they brag to me about their kids’ official-exam scores. The themes of the stories may vary, but my discomfort is consistent.
They drink a variety of herbal and extremely smelly teas throughout the entire day. That is eight hours of uninterrupted tea-drinking. I’m not sure if they’re channeling the Queen of England, or if they need a constant stream of hot liquid to wash out the bullshit that resides in their mouths, but either way, it’s too damn much.
Being one of only three females in my office, and someone who needs to pee ten times before 9 a.m., I pretty much have the bathroom to myself. What do my magnificent coworkers do? They choose to hold their meetings and group hugs right outside my toilet where they sit and laugh and drink their dumb aforementioned teas. This leads to intensely awkward eye contact with each of them every time I have to go.
Do you know how much seeing your butt-crack makes me hate you? Do you know that I can never un-see it? Do you know how much I hate myself for being able to identify each of your faces according to your butt cracks? Belts are not a popular accessory where I work.
When the weather gets warm, my co-workers take their shirts off. I’ll give you guys a minute to let that sink in, read it a few times, and feel bad for me. Yes, they will take their shirts off and walk around in their undershirts like the day they came into this world. Some of their tattoos have started to show up in my nightmares.
P.S I hope every last one of you reads this article and quits.
