If I were not so bored or so stressed out, or if I didn't come across the intriguing title - written in bold white letters, "The 10 Greatest Actors of Our Generation", whose ever generation that is - on the cover of a GQ magazine in a bookstore near my apartment, I would never in a gazillion years have thought about if I had an office spouse.
I know, I know. Allow me to explain.
Certainly, I was a tad disappointed after reading the list and scanning the smashing photographs of the carefully selected pack, leading by Russell Crowe, who no doubt could act, but absolutely not my favorite. By no means are these men lousy actors, I just was not surprised by the interview bits.
And then there was
this.
My first thought was, "Why would I want to be someone's office wife?" You know, the old familiar faux-feminism-complex thing. Then I realized, with giddiness, being someone's office wife is not bad at all. You have a confidant in a man you don't have to put up with after working hours.
Before reading this, I would never think an article in a men's magazine could drive away my worries. I mean, it is entertaining to look at how some men view this world, especially their speculations about women; still, it's not my last resort when I try to figure out what is going on in my life. But now it came in handy.
Yes. There is one such man.
We loathe the same people in the office, hang out with mostly the same gang, give some co-workers funny nicknames, are fans of the same baseball team and share inside jokes.
I was troubled by the confusion - "Am I being too friendly?", "I hope I won't get too comfortable being this close to him", etc - before Tom Prince wrote this piece. It's like the author's saying, "Hey, don't fret, it's all good."
Now I still have some mixed feelings about this man, because sometimes we (unknowingly?) flirt like we were not attached, respectively, to different people outside the office. But the emotional disarray is not as excruciating as before.
Think about it, a lot of people I know don't even have this privilege. And my office husband is one much sought-after guy, sometimes I'd like to introduce him as my "trophy hubby". Even though we both know we are sort of skirting around the ambiguous zone, our "office marriage" remains chaste. Therefore, we keep on loathing those people we loathe, instant messaging each other when we cannot immediately tell each other something incredibly funny or annoying, gushing about our fave baseball team and laughing at each other's jokes.
Hmm. What's not to like?
4. 捷運上狂聽Ivy，會讓我在壓力快將我輾碎的時候感覺像是突然被人拉上熱氣球。這是暫時解藥。
今日問題：
1. I wonder how old that Scandinavian-born-actor-look-alike guy who I met at the 7-11 this morning is. Anyone knows?
2. Don't you just hate to see your favorite baseball team lose, and in their worst fashion ever? (I know I do.)
3. You want some crackers now?
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