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9:19 a.m. - November 03, 2006
I'm a nice person. Really.

Hi. It's me. Andria. I'm the one Smed warned you about (but I'm harmless, I promise). I've been called many (MANY) things, but "sassy" isn't one of them. But I'm taking at as a compliment and running with it.

Readers of my blog know that I have a co-worker who drives me crazy on a daily basis. She’s obsessed with having a perfect body, and is always doing some ridiculous diet so that she can maintain her body so that her fiancé won’t leave her (healthy, right?). Her weight loss technique du jour is a month-long colon cleanse, in which she will miraculously lose five pounds by crapping out a piece of pizza that’s been lodged in her intestine since she was 15.

She’s been telling everyone in the office (and strangers that come in) how great she’s been feeling since she started, and how she’s sleeping better, and how her skin looks better than it’s ever looked before! Now, what she’s failed to tell them is that the real reason her skin looks so great (depending on who you ask – like, if you ask me, I’m going to tell you that even though she’s the same age as me [33], her sun-obsessed lifestyle makes her look 40+, and therefore doesn’t look great) is that she just spent $300 on botox shots. Why she would tell this to me, and then tell everyone else it’s from the Colon Blow is beyond me, but we all know she’s nuts.

I have nothing against plastic surgery and/or cosmetic work. In fact, I’m going to saving for my own plastic surgery since I have flabby skin everywhere after dropping a lot of weight (mama needs some lipo).

In addition to having many eating disorders, she’s also a RAGING GERMOPHOBE. Since she makes my life such a living hell, I take knowing things like that as an opportunity to exact my revenge by playing on those phobias.

I wash my hands about twenty times a day. I can’t stand when my hands are dirty. It’s not a germ thing, it’s a looking at dirt thing.

Since I am the one who makes sure our kitchen stuff (cups, plates, silverware, teas, etc.) is always stocked, I always make sure to wash my hands before I touch anything. That’s just common sense. And sometimes, since Celestia’s desk (she’s the crazy one) is right across from the kitchen, she always watches to see if I wash my hands before I touch anything.

So sometimes, just to freak her out, I’ll take the box of forks out of the cupboard and start putting them in the basket, and then I’ll say, "Hey, can you get the phone? I gotta pee like a racehorse!!" Then she’ll get a terrified look on her face, because she thinks my pee-covered hands will be touching the fork that is going to touch her mouth (that’s assuming she’s on the solid-food diet that week).

So I’ll go in the bathroom, and sometimes stay in there for a good long while, and when I come out, she always looks at my hands. Panicked. Like I might not have sense enough to wash them after I’ve just used the bathroom. And of course my hands always ARE clean, I just don’t always let her know.

Sometimes I’ll sniff, or do a fake cough around her, to make her think I’m getting sick. I’ll say things like, "Is something going around? My throat feels scratchy." Ten minutes later, she’s running around the office with Clorox wipes wiping every conceivable surface she can, and popping vitamins like she’s Rush Limbaugh with the oxycontin.

But the best way to make her freak out is when she starts talking about her germ issue, and I say something like, "How can you be so afraid to touch your phone after someone with a cold has used it? Do you know how many people have handled your money before it was in your wallet? Who knows what crazy communicable diseases they might have had. Or who touched that pen you’re using. Or who sat in the chair at the hair salon before you did. What about all the people at restaurants that touch your food?? I mean, it says they’re supposed to wash their hands, but who’s watching every single move they make?"

And then she runs in the bathroom, where I assume she’s either laying on the floor in the fetal position, or throwing up. Or both.

Either way, it’s a small victory (I don’t have enough time to go into why she brings these things on herself, but if you’ve read my blog, you’d know).

Wow. You have no idea how hard it was for me to not curse in this whole entry.

Happy Friday, everybody!


 

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