Last week I met a couple of girlfriends for dinner. We conversationally sprinted over work, men and family before settling on to our new favourite subject: the woman my friend hates at work.

 This woman – let’s call her Louise – has become so irritating to my friend, and has been rendered in such painstaking detail to us, that I cringe inside whenever I hear Louise’s name. She has become my friend’s office equivalent of an ex-boyfriend. Someone you have fallen so out of love with that their every breath makes your skin crawl and you daydream of dashing their head against the wall.