At The Office

Another 'romantic' night out yesterday.

Under the moonlight.

By the poolside.

My colleagues and I having quiet chats in the balmy night while enjoying the glorious food.

However, all good moments must come to end eventually.

When we felt the mosquitoes abuzzing, we fled the scene and retreated into the air-conditioned house.

Nothing kills romantic moonlight nights more than mosquitoes.

Beware the aedes!

When I told Mike about my criteria for my helpmate, he said something very unexpected. Shocking, in fact.

"Hmmm, are you looking for a hireling or a boyfriend?" Mike asked shrewdly.

I was affronted, "How could you say that? Of course, I'm looking for a colleague! Not a... a boyfriend!"

I took a deep breath, "Ok, perhaps I had been a bit too stringent in my selection criteria. But the boss did ask me to hire someone I can get along with. At the very least, there must be some chemistry, right?"

Mike's eyebrows went up a little higher and he had this look which said, "Ah, I rest my case!"

"Wait," I held up a hand. "Maybe chemistry isn't the right word. What I really meant was errr.. team spirit. Yes, team spirit and camaraderie!"

He didn't look very much convinced at my motives, which are entirely blameless, let me assure you. After a while, I gave up trying to convince the skeptic and proceeded to do other better things. Like giving him a cool stare while drinking my coffee nonchalantly. After all, the more defensive I get, the more he would think that I have something to hide!

Anyway, my criteria is really straight-forward. That person preferably should be:

• Younger - so that I can bully mentor easily. The older they are, the more difficult it is to lord over lead them.
  
• Flexible and gungho
  
• Good with computers and IT peripherals
  
• Great in communication - this is where the 'team spirit and camaraderie' bit came in
  

As you can see, it's very different from My Dream Guy poem. The normally astute Mike has read me wrong this time. Heh heh heh.

I love to wear black-coloured clothes. It's not my favourite color, but I like it for the following practical reasons:

• It's slimming
  
• I can eat anything I want without stopping to think if a messy encounter will stain my clothes. More so when chicken curry happens to be my favourite food
  
• It's slimming
  
• It's a professional color
  
• It's slimming
  
• It goes well with all my bags and accessories
  
• It's slimming
  

As you can tell, the numero uno reason for me wearing black is that it is so flattering to the figure especially when you have bulges to hide.

So I happily donned on a black outfit over the weekend and bumped into a friend who hasn't seen me in a couple of months.

"Eeeks, you've lost weight!" she looked horrified.

I was genuinely puzzled, "What do you mean I lost weight? I still weigh the same as the last time I saw you."

"No lah, you looked much better then. Now you've... you've... gone skinny!" she grimaced.

I recalled that another friend had commented that I don't look great in a black dress I wore to a wedding dinner recently. Then it dawned upon me that the weight that I lost during the hectic production days has now caused me to resemble a beanstalk whenever I wear something totally black. I now understand why a waif-like friend of mine doesn't have a single black garment in her wardrobe.

Today, I decided to put my new-found theory into test. Instead of a black or grey jacket, I wore a pastel pink one to work. I have never worn that before although I had it for quite a few years now. The reactions of my boss and colleagues were very, very flattering.

"Wow, looking good today!" said one male colleague.

"It's a very nice jacket," said my boss (first time ever being complimented by him on my dressing!).

"Ooooh, style sebiji macam Audrey Hepburn!" said another lady colleague.
(Translation: "Your style really resembles that of Audrey Hepburn!")

That does it.

From now on, I will minimise on wearing black stuff and choose brighter or pastel shades instead. But I won't throw away my precious black clothes. Who knows when the bulges decide to start appearing again?