Dump Session

I used to like the fact that my cubicle at work borders the boss’ office. I got to hear some top-flight gossip, future plans, and all. Now we have a new boss. He and our new document control person go in there occasionally to kibbutz and basically dump on a lot of the work we as writer/editors have done here to keep our customers happy. Now, I’ll be the first to say we didn’t always have the best practices under Art, but to her this pair dump and dump and dump on what we’ve done is a bit grating. Funny thing is, they whisper, thinking what they say won’t travel over the cubicle walls. I still hear it. I almost stood up today to protest, but, then again the nail that pokes up around here doesn’t get pounded down, it gets wrenched out. So I will remain quiet on the outside. Except to you folks here in Blogland.

Good news is I'm becoming more pessimistic about work in general. Having low expectations means you're not disappointed by much. According to many life-meters out there, at my age I should be "in a good job, with prospects." They never really say prospects of what? I like the prospect of getting paid. Advancement? Been there, done that, and reached my level of incompetence per the Peter Principle. No can do, Omaha. Maybe I'm an optimistic pessimist. I still see lots of hope in things that truly are hopeless. I should probably start rooting for the Chicago Cubs.