Jubilaeum!

"Do you know what tomorrow is?" I asked the Boss.

"It's Tuesday."

"Yessss," I said, because he is correct. Tomorrow is Tuesday. "But it is a very special Tuesday." He looked at me. I let him stare for about 20 seconds.

"Tomorrow is my one year anniversary at Die Bank!"

"Congratulations," he said. "You survived."

"Congratulations," I said. "You survived."

Of course, what he doesn't know is that last Wednesday about half an hour before I was supposed to catch my train I was sitting in the office crying. G2, unaccostomed to a human showing emotion (uh, her face is leaking?) called in Frau Foxtrot for backup. Together they both laughed at me which is pretty understandable, because when I cry, it's usually sprung out of a breakdown and I'm half laughing and half crying. Also, a lot of profanity was streeming out between tears. G2 helped me with my work and talked me down. "You cannot take office life seriously," he said. "If you actually try to think about it, you'll go insane."

"Don't worry," he said of the supervisor in Germany I was totally stressing out about. "It's nighttime in Germany now. She's probably sleeping. She's probably getting banged by her husband. Either way, I guarantee you, she's not thinking about you right now, so don't bother about her." Man, I love that German pragmatism.

I think I'll give the Boss a couple of days before I start pushing for a performance review and a raise.