I “liked” your announcement of the big news on Facebook.

I resent your success.

I “loved” your announcement of the big news on Facebook.

I resent you as a human being.

I “wow emoji-ed” your announcement of the big news on Facebook.

I spent an hour crying about it in the bathroom at work, and when Karen from Sales asked me what was wrong, I told her I had a hysterical pregnancy.

I “loved” your announcement on Facebook, and left a comment about how excited I am for you, and that you totally deserve this amazing thing, and I can’t wait to hug you in person.

I find your friendship exhausting.

I posted an article referencing you and your big news and tagged you.

Please hire me.

I sent you a congratulatory PM.

Seriously, hire me, or I’ll leak that less than flattering story about you and Logan Paul.

I called you on the phone to congratulate you.

If you don’t recognize that you owe me by now, whatever happens to your and/or Logan Paul’s career is on you.

I tweeted about your big news noting how awesome and talented I think you are.

I’m using you to get verified.

I posted a picture of us doing Jello shots ten years ago on Instagram with the caption “From humble beginnings…”

There’s more where Logan Paul came from…

I sent you an Edible Arrangement.

That white stuff isn’t chocolate.

I stopped by your house to say hi because I was in the neighborhood.

Run.

I dropped a handwritten note off at your office.

The police can’t save you.

I run into you while you’re out grocery shopping. We hug, and talk about how we should definitely get our kids together for a playdate as soon as all the excitement dies down.

Now I know your kid’s schedule.

I Snapchat you a boomerang gif of your husband and me doing an elaborate high five at your kid’s soccer game with the caption, “New soccer coach in da house!”

Peyton Flanders was an amateur. Also your husband isn’t doing well with the traditional gender role reversal.

I text you a selfie of your new boss and me at the coffee shop around the corner from your office.

There’s a lot you can learn from LinkedIn.

I tag you in a post about my big work news—becoming your supervisor—and thank you profusely for all you did to help me get there.

Surprise, bitch.

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