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You come into the office every day, and I’ve long since stopped asking you how your evening was because I’m absolutely fucking sick of hearing about your bloody children. All you have to say is “Fine, thanks, how was yours?” like everyone else does. You sit at your desk all day Googling the symptoms of medical conditions and then convincing yourself your kids’ have them. Today is panic attacks, yesterday it was a thyroid problem. They came into the office a couple of times, they seem like totally normal teenagers to me. Please understand, you’re a nice person… but we’re not friends outside of work, and I really have no interest in mutually wasting our day whilst you broadcast your neurotic worries to everyone.
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