There’s nothing worse than someone else getting praise for your hard work. It recently happened to me: My coworker took credit for something I did, and now they’re in prison for murder!
They can’t let me get credit for anything, can they?
We’ve all been there: You work tirelessly on a PowerPoint, yet your coworker accepts the praise; you share an idea in a meeting, only to have your coworker say it louder and steal the spotlight; you kill someone and spend hours meticulously disposing of the body, and then your coworker just goes and confesses to the crime in front of a jury of their peers?
Another guy taking credit for a woman’s work – typical.
I thought I’d seen the worst of it when my coworker David blatantly plagiarized my marketing forecast and presented it to my boss as his own. But, no! He had to go and detail the date, time, and location of my homicide and claim he had been the one to wield the lead pipe in the billiard room.
Yeah, I was going for a cheeky Clue-themed murder and, thanks to toxic office politics, the world will never know!
Now, my coworker David is chilling in prison while I have to shoulder the responsibility for finishing these Excel spreadsheets and getting them to my boss by Friday. Please tell me how that’s fair!
Not to mention – no one even questioned the legitimacy of his claims! Not when he went to our boss with my idea of “Funky Hat Friday,” and not when he told the detectives that the body was hidden under the floorboards of my apartment.
Hello? He hasn’t even worn a funky hat to the office once, and I’m constantly rocking my zany leather newsboy cap! Plus, I did all that murdering stuff.
He doesn’t even know my annoying neighbor who he’s claiming to have “violently killed,” but I’ve been having a very public, very charged dispute with them for months! Apparently, no one’s heard of a false confession before?
Now, I have to spend the rest of my un-incarcerated life harboring a deep, unrelenting, haunting guilt for the unspeakable act I’ve carried out à la “The Tell-Tale Heart,” and my coworker David gets to spend the rest of his life in a 70 square foot jail cell, paying the debt for a crime he didn’t commit. Classic!
