I want a work proposal.

I've had a work husband. We shared a cube. Ate lunch together often. Bitched about our jobs together.

We were totally married. Just not for real.

And when we both left our jobs, we joked about our splitting up. How we were amicable. And to this day, we remain friends. Now, we call each other "ex work wife" and "ex work husband."

It works.

Having a work husband was great. So great that I would really like another one. But there's one problem ... no one has work proposed to me.

I mean, I have work crushes. There are some great candidates around my office for work husbands. Heck, there are great candidates for work wives, too. I'm not a work homophobe. You could even call me a work bisexual. I'll work marry anyone, really.

But I'm too shy to initiate any work dating.

Oh well. I guess I'll just fill my office with pictures of cats and become the work spinster.

I remember.

The terrorist is dead. And I'm watching the world celebrate on TV and on the Internet and in the streets.

And I remember the famous incident of the towers falling. And I remember watching parts of the world celebrate on TV and on the Internet and even in the streets.

Because parts of the world felt we were evil. And we deserved what we got.

But their celebrations made us even angrier. Their merriment hurt.

And I promised myself that if "justice" were ever served, I wouldn't celebrate. Because no matter how ignorant, how sinister, and how evil a man is, I can't praise his murder.

It's hypocritical.

So I watch my peers raise glasses, hold signs, and cheer for the death of a man who killed millions. Their celebrations no doubt making others angrier. And their merriment hurting.

I will not celebrate. Because I refuse to sink to the level of those who sunk so morally low at our pain.

And I will never publicly cheer the death of anyone. 

After all, "thou shalt not kill" is fairly straightforward.