Rainiest March, ever. In New York City, it has been raining. Not your run of the mill rain. Rain of biblical proportions. Flooding. Power outages. Bronx River Parkway closed. I'm talking significant inconvenience.
But just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, God showed up. He told me to build an ark 300 cubits by 50 cubits by 30 cubits. I told Him that Noah Shapiro worked three cubicles down near the Women's Room -- which would be a primo spot if we had a few decent looking women working here which we don't.
God said watch that talk, He doesn't need another EEO incident and that I was the point person on this. I told Him I had a lot on my plate, could I get some overtime. He said no overtime, but give it top priority, goofing off on my blog would have to wait. I said what about my weekly progress report that was due every Monday whether or not there was any progress? He said shut up and listen -- and He said it very loudly.
God said watch that talk, He doesn't need another EEO incident and that I was the point person on this. I told Him I had a lot on my plate, could I get some overtime. He said no overtime, but give it top priority, goofing off on my blog would have to wait. I said what about my weekly progress report that was due every Monday whether or not there was any progress? He said shut up and listen -- and He said it very loudly.
I took notes on a yellow sticky pad: 1- build ark 2- gather pairs of every animal 3- prepare for a long journey with lots of mouths to feed 4- humans will need to procreate so find a mating pair or a suitable mate for myself.
I ask when it needs to be done. He says ASAP. I say ASAP? What kind of crap is that? Fiscal year ends in June, I don't have a budget in place. The best I can do is a feasibility report by September 30th. God says He'll shove the report up my ass, just get it done -- but HR gave a talk last month about how all deadlines should have hard and fast dates that are reasonable.
I know what you're thinking. Monday's suck. But there is an upside. The big Dope didn't leave a paper trail. No e-mails, no voice mails, just a lot of yelling. And wouldn't you know it, I wrote sloppy because I was stressed and then I misplaced the sticky pad.
I know the drill. What seems important to the big shots gets forgotten when the newest crisis bites them in the Holy Ass. I'll do just enough to pad my weekly status report and get a bullet or maybe two in the departmental monthly.
So now I have to build an ark of some reasonable dimension, gather a boatload of animals and a mating pair of humans. Or do I?
A pair of every animal? That's crazy talk. I only have three pairs of shoes ferChristsakes, work shoes, running shoes and basketball shoes, and I get by. What is this Guy? The Imelda Marcos of animals? He must have meant a pair of my favorite animal, I'm thinking golden retrievers, female so I don't have to deal with puppies.
A mating pair of humans... Shitno, I'm not traveling with a mating pair of humans. "Honey, my temperature is up today, do me now but I have a skype with my sister in Germany at 10 so please keep quiet."
A mating pair of humans... Shitno, I'm not traveling with a mating pair of humans. "Honey, my temperature is up today, do me now but I have a skype with my sister in Germany at 10 so please keep quiet."
Lots of mouths to feed? This has to be one of those management class bullshit things He learned about in one of those training classes He always gets to go to while I cover for Him. I'll display initiative. My yearly review included this gem in the section on Needs to Improve: Bob should proactively display initiative instead of always reacting retroactively to critical situations.
I figured I'd show Him proactive so I got a ticket on this weekend's Carnival Cruise Line Bahamas Getaway -- all the food is included, booze, too. Instead of Golden Retrievers (too big) I got two land snails at WalMart.com. They are going to arrive by overnight tomorrow morning.
I'm as golden as a retriever. The whole ordeal took ten minutes and now I can just pretend to be busy until Friday. Mating pair of humans? If God is going to bust my chops about that, I'll score me a tipsy MILF whose husband has abandoned her for the casino.
Looks like it's Annie Oakley Night on the Fiesta Deck! I don't think I'll have any problem restablishing our species with this bunch.
Life is good.
