P.S. You’re the Worst

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Dear Margaret,

I gave you the best years of my life and you shall have no more. I realize you are just a cog in this soul-guzzling corporate machine, but I refuse to let you keep sucking me dry. May Jessica’s fresh, tasty youth soon sour in your mouth, as mine has.

I QUIT.

Goodbye,

Becky

P.S. I’ve worked out all the times you forgot to pay me back for your Pret sandwich and it adds up to ￡55.45. Bank transfer will be fine, thanks.

P.P.S. Everything else withstanding, your outfits really are quite glorious.