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August 5, 2003
For various good reasons, I absolutely hate the idiot in the cubicle to my right. I can’t tell anymore if it’s the condescension, the mannerisms, the friendship with my manager, the really know-it-all-y breathing, or the routine nail clipping while I’m concentrating. I’m annoyed from being annoyed. It’s become an entity in itself. Like the memory of a memory. Today, he blurts out that men and women “can’t” be friends, sex is always in the way. And not in that cute “When Harry Met Sally” way. More in a completely work-inappropriate way. I’m going to find something evil to do.