A 3-month hiatus.

Not good. I did not want to abandon this blog.

But the truth is, I’ve been hibernating.

Hibernating and… yes… becoming a “we”.

Hell hath frozen over my friends. I have a boyfriend.

Like one that actually lays claim to being my boyfriend.

Who knew it was possible. I for sure, did not.

This all happened extremely quickly too. For a culture that likes to do everything “con calma,” this shotgun relationship has been anything but.

I also went ahead the other day and did the inevitable: I put a picture of us on Facebook. I had friends in America who I haven’t heard from in months, downloading whats app to inquire about the mystery man.

Is that your boyfriend?

It sure as hell is.

HOW DID THIS ALL HAPPEN?

Well, let’s back track. Because nothing is ever a simple story. And this, my friends, is a good one.

Back in October I was at the end of my rope with my nightmare job. I had been working at this terrible agency for about a year. It was literally, the worst. Nothing I would wish upon my own worst enemy. That being said, it was one of those places that everyone needs to experience once in their life so that they can truly appreciate every single job they have after that.

It was that bad.

So bad, that it was funny.

There’s really no way of tiptoeing around this: my boss was insane. And his jaw-dropping antics all culminated one day with one of the craziest scenes you’d have to see to believe.

My very “sane” boss had gotten a puppy in the summertime that he decided to make the new office pet. Cute idea. In theory. By September this “puppy” was large and rambunctious and was jumping around a place that barely fit the 15 or so people working there. He was also getting into everything.

One quiet afternoon as we were peacefully typing away on our laptops, my boss came back to find his dog eating something he had gotten out of the trash in the women’s bathroom.

And thus the yelling ensued. (and I quote)

MY DOG IS EATING A FUCKING BLOODY TAMPON.

After repeating this several times (in English), he then burst into our room:

WHO LEFT THE BLOODY TAMPON IN THE WRONG TRASH BIN? WHO?

BLOODY TAMPON

BLOODY TAMPON

BLOODY TAMPON

Are you nauseated yet? Are you cringing?  Because this is how it went on for the next ten minutes.

The Italians for sure understood, but I don’t know if they got that bloody tampon, when repeated over and over, has the same cacophonous effect as moist.

If I never hear the word tampon again, it’ll be too soon.

But that wasn’t the last of it.

The next day we had an all office meeting where our (again, sane) boss said he was highly disappointed that one of us ladies would not take responsibility for using the wrong trash bin.

As we sat in silence, he taunted us:

Well, I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong, maybe it wasn’t a tampon, maybe one of the guys had a bloody nose or something. Guys, is this true?!

As we (still) sat horrified in silence, it became clear what he wanted: one of us girls to stand up in front of everyone and lay claim to the tampon. Which would then mean admitting to the entire office (men included) that it was her time of the month.

And then, of course, die of embarrassment.

Still having trouble believing this? I would be too if I were you, which is why I come prepared. Here is the lovely, well-written and might I add, professional email sent to us by my boss:

crazy boss

Again, amazing display of professionalism. Nine lines of pure, sexually harassing poetry.

Please also turn your attention for a moment to the horrible grammar and erroneous spellings of what should be the word tampon.

I mean, who wants to use tampons when they can use TAPOONS!

So how do we go from bloody tampons to boyfriend? I’m getting there.

Just when you thought nothing could top this…

A week later my boss blew threw the office like a tornado, angry because someone had given his dog water when they weren’t supposed to. And in the process, he slammed a door, shattering all the glass.

I think someone was crying, other people were shaken up, I was laughing. One of my colleagues closed her laptop and walked out. Quit right there on the spot.

After that, I think it goes without saying that my outlook on coming to the office was rather… tarnished.

My boss did not like that. Loyalty was extremely important to him, but he had a habit of treating us like less human beings to see just how much we could take. I can honestly say it was the most fucked up “relationship” I’ve ever been in.

So he “cut my position.” Yup. Laid me off. He said he heard I did not like working there.

Well, it has become rather unpleasant, I said. (Biggest understatement of the year)

So he served me with a document saying he was cutting my position because the company was “in loss” and no longer had the money to pay me.

I suppose “trauma due to bloody tampon verbal assault” is not technically a fireable offense. Actually, that would be illegal. And we all know he’s a “play by the rules” kind of guy.

I did cry. I was angry, offended and not financially in a position to lose my job.

But goddammit, I was FREE. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do, but I knew that in 30 days, I was out of a place that felt like prison.

And that week I sent my resume to an agency that called me immediately for an interview.

I wondered if I was doing the right thing working in another agency after the experience I had had or if I should just go back to working freelance. But I decided I wanted colleagues and this place seemed cool to work.

I went through a long interview process and I was hired.

I started in January and found a new sense of living and even better, I found the guy.

Yes, a good old office romance broke my nearly 15-year reign of singledom

So, everything truly happens for a reason. One day’s bloody tampon frenzy is tomorrow’s blossoming romance.

It has also given me so much more to write about. So, stay tuned for more of my life as…. a couple.