midnight ode to my jim

I just got through watching last night's episode of "The Office" and I am in full-fledged swooning mode wanting a Jim Halpert of my very own. Seriously. Is it weird to be completely in love with a fictional character? I know I'm not the only one though. Thousands of girls must have tuned in, eyes green with jealousy and Cinderella complexes heightened, as Thursday night's favorite sit-com couple tied the knot with a parody of Chris Brown's Forever and the YouTube wedding dance in the background - as only the office staff could do it.

I'm kind of the Pam Beesly of my department. I have curly hair about the same color, dress pretty moderately, and though I don't answer my phone saying "Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam." I often feel like my department's version of a secretary - that is, I am the most junior member. So where is my Jim I ask you? I want someone who will cut his tie with a pair of scissors because I'm knocked up, hormonal and crying over a torn veil (ok, maybe not the first part but as Michael Scott says, it isn't the 1890's people!) Add to that having to babysit a co-worker with an injured scrotum. I would cry too, Pam. I would cry too.

Loved it all. And even though I know he's not real, I go to bed hoping that like Santa Claus, winning lotto tickets, and calorie-free burritos, Jim Halperts really do exist.