What a difference a day makes.

I wrote - and deleted - an entire story about how someone had wronged me. I even sent an email that said something like "This was grossly inappropriate and I'm deeply offended. You owe me an apology."

"I don't want to be the one who's difficult and tempermental," I sighed. "I don't want to argue with colleagues and complain about my peers. I like it here."

"You're fine," a friend replied. "He's the one who's difficult." I nodded, but continued to frown thoughtfully. "You know," she offered a moment later, "it's a blessing a curse to be so visible in the business so early in your career."

I cocked my head at her, nibbled on my chip and smiled. "Are you saying more people will attack me and take pleasure from my failures?"

"Probably," she replied readily.

"It wasn't nice to tell me I was bad at my job," I said softly of the email I received this morning from one of the guys in my group. "It hurt my feelings."

"Katie," she scolded. "How many people have congratulated you today? The leaders of the company know who you are and recognize that you're one of Very Important's favorites. How can you fixate on one idiot's opinion of you and ignore all the other feedback?"

"It's my natural inclination," I replied, wishing that weren't the case.

"I am good at my job," I told myself when I returned to my desk and touched the envelope I received yesterday. "I have a certificate that says so."

Then I set up a call to address my erstwhile colleague on Friday. I need time to calm down (for I'm quite vicious when attacked) and settle before we discuss this. He was inappropriate and offensive and I did not deserve it. Unhappy people generally try to spread their misery to others and I'm trying to pity him rather than plotting his demise. (That's not going so well.) But I'll let you know how it goes.