“No thanks, Cheryl. I’m on a diet.” I said trying to stare at my monitor.

With one giant gasp, the entire office started prairie dogging in their cubicles; trying to figure out who turned down Cheryl’s cake-like concoction.

Yes, it is I, Darleen, who is the idiot. Now sit down, and get back to your busy day of Sudoku and web surfing, before I monkeyslap every one of you idgits. God this wasn’t a good day to start my period.

“One bite won’t hurt, Darleen? " I could hear the crumbs roll down Steve’s tie, and bounce onto the floor as he talked with a full mouth. “From where I’m standing that little butt of yours is just fine the way it is.”

I’m not sure if it was Steve calling me out on my lie or his comments about my butt every day for the last 18 months, but he had just lit the fuse on a stick of Darleenimite.

I spun in my chair to face Steve, but I made eye contact with Cheryl. No! No! Turn back! Abort ‘Operation Stomp on Steve’s Crotch’!

Unfortunately, I saw her big brown eyes watering up.