Less like Hell

While riding in the carpool this morning I realized that I don't completely hate my job. At my last job I used to say that the bus we rode from the parking lot to the office was delivering me to the gates of Hell. That was actually true though. I remember many meetings when Beelzebub would tell us things like:

"We need to work smarter men, not harder."

"Ask your neighbors, most companies are stripping away their employee's pay, benefits, and retirement; You have it pretty damn good when you consider the prestige you earn just by working here."

"Yes, it's true that you work mid-night shift, have crappy off-days, and work outdoors in Portland Oregon's rain, but we have to watch our sick time."

So, back to paradise and the fact that work sucks less now. As I sit here, during our monthly meeting, and jot down a few thoughts, my manager, pseudo Beelzebub (PBZB), is bordering on the absurd. He speaks in very simple terms, and then follows them up with,
"Does that make sense?"
"No, none of this makes any sense at all," the dream me (DM) says.
"Yes sir," is what the real me(RM) says. I follow it up with, "May I have another?"

The meeting moves on to safety and injuries. Injuries are so measurable that this is a topic which is presented robustly: PBZB is in full blown managerial mode.

PBZB - "Does that make sense?"
DM - "No, the man fell off of a ladder, why do I have to wear safety glasses now while I surf the Internet?"
RM - "Yes sir, may I have yet another?"
PBZB - "It's just the best management practice."
DM - " But they hurt my head; my temples are sensitive."
RM - "zzzzzzzzzz...."

I'm in a meadow filled with wild flowers. They are like a living rainbow; raspberry red, lemon yellow, orange..."

PBZB - "...Does that make sense?"
RM - "No."
PBZB - "What?"
RM - "Yes sir, may I have another?"
PBZB - "See me after break."
RM - "DOH!"
DM - "Does that make sense?"

Se la vie. By the time I pass the dookie blender again all will be forgotten.