Haters Gonna Hate


Dear Bones,

I have a co-worker who is getting impossible to stomach every day. One minute she’s all animated and easygoing and funny. The next, she’s sullen and snappish. Her mood swings are getting tiring. How to deal with this? I don’t want to cause conflict, so I try my best to stay out of her path.

Anonymous Jane

Dear Anonymous Jane,

I like your name but that is not what you wrote me for, amiright? I don’t even know why I am suddenly here, with a column of my own. My guess is that this certain blogger has ran out of fresh ideas. Hence, this column was dumped on me. But that is not what you wanted to know, amiright? Here are my thoughts about your co-worker issue. Feel free to take them in any way you want to. Understand, however, that whatever you decide to say and do has nothing to do with me. Yeah, I know. I’m washing my hands clean of this but just so you know… yeah, I’ll spout words of wisdom, you pick whatever you want from those. So here goes, Anonymous Jane:

  1. I hate to ask this but I feel I must: Are you sure she’s not on drugs? Or that she’s not demented? If her mood see-saws like that… Well. Point her to the nearest doctor. She might thank you. I do emphasize on “might.”
  2. Yes, staying out of her way as much as you can sounds like a cop out good plan. OR you may just try to turn the tables and pretend she’s not there. It’s hard to be sullen and snappish when you have no audience. I mean, I just imagine those two things eat up a lot of emotional energy just to give off that kind of vibe. She may stop the sullenness and snappishness if no one pays her any attention.
  3. Spike her drink with this potion when she’s biting someone’s head off not looking. (Although why you would want to be friends with someone who sounds awful is beyond me.)
  4. In lieu of item number three: I was going to suggest this potion but then dragons could possibly cause a ruckus, so no.
  5. Are you really sure she’s not on drugs? Not demented? Because seriously, having to interact with that kind of person five days a week can be exhausting. And traumatizing, I may add, because you sound traumatized. Enough so that you sent a letter asking for my advice, for heaven’s sake.

I wish you all the best of luck (because you sound like you really need it). And just to be safe: Save in your mobile phone a psychiatrist’s number. Also? When in doubt, there’s always the ring of salt. Hint: Around your desk space, dear. Just to keep the bad things at bay. Sounds silly? Stranger things have happened. Talk to Sam and Dean. They’d vouch for me.

exit stage left,
— Bones

** Aside: These “Dear Bones” posts should be taken as lightly as that feeling you get after sniffing too much rugby.


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