Rage: A Question

I have a question for you, internet! Ok, a fairly extensive and tedious backstory, and then a question. I’ll crack on.

Long version:
My manager at work occasionally likes to give us all little product knowledge questionnaires, just to check that we still all know what the fuck we’re doing. Selling items to the general public requires a degree in Pretending to Laugh at Stupid Jokes, and Not Punching Awkward Customers in the Face, but also Knowing What the Fuck You’re Talking About.
She’ll type out the questions, and leave them in our individual folders on the laptop we have. We’ll then dick our way through them, and save them back into her folder. Simple.
I had been in work for a 9-7 shift, which is a long time when customers are making you regret signing the oath, swearing you wouldn’t Kick Them in the Nads, but it is ample time to fill in a product knowledge questionnaire. I took most of the day to do it, filling in a bit, then going away to shout at some children, then coming back to it. At the end of my shift, I was pretty happy with it. I’d put in a lot of work, and had only kicked one elderly vicar in the spleen.
Another girl at work had done the same quiz, but had saved it to the public area of the laptop. Being the nosy little bastard I am, I had a read. I wanted to see if she’d done better than me. Upon reaching the end, I saw a note from my manager, saying that her efforts weren’t good enough and that she should read my questionnaire as an example. Awkward.
I then sought out her second attempt, to see if she had taken any of my wisdom on board.
Turns out, she took quite a bit. As much as you can take with the COPY AND PASTE tool. I was reading her second set of answers when I shouldn’t’ve been. Internet, do I have a right to be annoyed?

Short version:
Girl stole my work! I be pissed?