Wife Material

Despite her being a gentle soul, agreeable and generous, she remains unwed to this day. Not because she has any faults as such but because she insists on doing things right.

Do you desire to sleep with her, and she with you? Then marry her first.

Does her instinct tell her you two will not be happy together? Then forget about her.

She is pleasant to be around, warm and attentive; one to avoid loud confrontations. Her mind is an open book, for she speaks her mind graciously, ernestly, gently, with never a word out of place.

Her eyes gleam with an infectious and a pure happiness that bubbles up from inside her. Her smile is bright and her laugh genuine. Hers is the pure essence of a clear conscience, contentment undefiled by resentments, a quiet spirit, a beautiful thing.

A trustworthy lady, she keeps confidences and forgets slights quickly, her heart's door ever open to reconciliation and closed to grudges.

A brave warrior of truth, she stands up for what she believes. Although her gentle voice bears no menace, her sure words are usually wise or encouraging, yet she will never undermine her stance with compromise.

Her name is Joy, a delight indeed in store for whoever she so patiently waits for.

Epicenter

Lately at work I find myself literally surrounded in all directions by female colleagues of all shapes sizes and stations in life.

Sometimes the glut of oestrogen is suffocating. One hapless woman shows up early to work with a bad mood left over from the domestic battlefront, and every other woman syncs into that exact mood quickly. Next thing I know I'm a front seat observer at a third rate drama-thriller poorly disguised as a professional workplace environment.

Sometimes I become the center of attention. It doesn't help that my quirks are so eccentric that many things I find myself doing absentmindedly make ME laugh. I'm only now getting used to myself. Their favorite pastime is ganging up to tell me I should marry. Nowadays I just agree and ask for their little sisters' numbers.

A part of me understands though. The girls need an outlet for their girlishness. They can't share gossip forever. I'm a sitting target in their midst, a sounding board for how far their minds have deviated from practical sanity. But the femmes enjoy trying to annoy/provoke me purely for its own sake. I've never understood that bit. One wishes I had been born her small brother and takes every opportunity to harangue me about all my life choices and yet she is no saint. Even the mousy homely one among them plucks up enough courage to interfere with my settled peace of mind whenever her fancies grip her. Another one went so far as to throw tantrums when I refused to comply with her frivolous attention-grabbing gimmicks, got frustrated at length, forgot her wits, attempted to drag me in my seat from my desk.

There are a few other guys around but they are not thus maltreated. They say its my fault I'm playful and accomodating. I should try being fierce and angry. They tell me I could be sleeping with these women colleagues if I wanted. I tell them I will never do that again.

There is a line these ladies do not cross with me, despite all the liberties they take. I was oblivious to this fact until another female colleague told me "When you enter the room these people behave." They think I am their agreeable brother.