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Ruth is a full-time writer. Foodie. Happy camper. Wanders a lot. Used to have the worst taste in men. A reformed swipe-a-holic. Reviving her blog after its death.

Sunday, May 23, 2004

I washed his coffee mug (without him knowing it) because the thought of any bacteria attacking his immune system horrifies me.

The least thing I need at work right now is him filing for a sick leave.

Here’s a theory about the mug: he leaves them overnight, washes them the next day with some hand wash in the bathroom, and then disinfects it with hot water.

But still, you’re never too sure, right?

At the end of the day, he gives me and only me (ok, sige na nga, and also the sweet lady from the art section) a box of chocolates. But he also placed the remaining chocolate chip cookies of our department on my table.

Awww… ain’t that sweet? I’m keeping the box as a souvenir.

This is no Harlequin/Mills and Boon story, okay. This is me worshipping the ground he walks on.

***


Pam asked me if I’d agree to marriage with Saturday Boss.

The answer is a big “No Way.”

The problem is not because he’s my former prof, or because we have a big age gap, or because I don't find him attractive. The problem is…

…I can’t imagine giving him oral sex.

I can totally picture myself doing it with Jerry Yan, Johnny Depp, Stuart Townsend, and Orlando Bloom. But not with him. Euw! That’s… disgusting!

Kaya shame on Bitchy Pammy for even suggesting such a thing. Si ano pa, puwede…