I Don't Care

I don't care about your renovation plans for your apartment. I don't care about your love life. I don't care about your unhappiness with your job. I don't care that you feel overworked, even though you spend over half your time kibitzing with your friends on the phone in a really, really loud voice.

I work for a different company and frankly shouldn't have to deal with you at all. Alas, fate put my cube next to yours. That's right. You work in a cube. So stop using your outside voice to talk about Pergo. Who pays to put Pergo in their apartment?!?!?! Refinish Pergo? WTF? I want ear plugs. Or headphones. Something to stop me from having to hear you.

[I've kept from writing this post for months now, afraid that the person I'm venting about would somehow find my blog and read this. At this point, I could care less.]