Sleeping with my Dairy - Part 4

I hope you have the time to read thro this HUGE piece.

I have been spewing all the official venom all over this page…so I wish to rechristen you as Ms.Diary. I hope you don’t mind and even if you do, don’t bother letting me know abt that.

I have A Point to make….It may sound like a tit for tat….but trust me it isn’t. atleast I am sure you don’t have a tat. So ……here it goes. I once worked (that was abt the only time that I actually recall having worked) for this company where they had an area manager for the US and European regions. Thank God for small mercies that I was in the US region coz the “LADY” manager for the European region had a strong dislike towards women employees and for some unknown (or rather too obvious) reasons had all males working for her and ‘Under’ her. Now, I wudnt call it the miracle of the cleavage [By the way, do I smell something burnin? A lil hint of shakespeare’s green eyed monster? I am sorry, but certain things are genetic and pertain to only specific life forms] coz the only thing that those guys cud cleave was their brains. It was fairly simple as very lil was left over. Anyways, once upon this day (wanted a change from the clichéd granma’s phrase) she and her American counterpart had to interview 4 candidates and she literally fought for the two guys to be pulled into her team…..God only knows why and considering their juvenile IQs and their goldfish memories and certainly nothing much to talk abt their “manliness” ….so I have to give it a pass. …….

Cut…..

Take 2.

Both the guys went to Europe…..worked with her. She singled out the good looking one (now don’t ask me if he really was or not….. No comments on that) and kept a hawk-eye on him for like 2 months and he seemed to be the perfect worker in her eyes – which was a miracle considering the fact that he even wasn’t qualified for the post. Well…that’s what you get if you are a guy. Whoa! All this besides the privilege of being able to piss wherever you like. I cant believe that anyone would want to complain abt the high status given to the ‘inferior sex’ (That is not to be considered as a “verb” but as a Noun. So cool it guys!!! and by the way, I was referring to the masculine things).

hat was just one from the huge repertoire of such incidents that I carry…..Call me a beast of the burden. Is pretty apt.

Let me move on to much more imp things….in life. That’s ME, Myself and my ‘as of wont’ crappy day worth cribbing.

Before I forget, Now I know what folks mean when they say that men have a fixation for certain things……even if portrayed in the negative sense. Thanks for “broadening” my horizons….

Today was “a day” as usual….as in a specimen of a day. I was on this huge roller-coaster which preferred to dip so low and then soar right into the skies into oblivion. Was fun.

The top-most boss actually turned me into a complaint register and actually complained abt the second-in-command and so on and so forth. There’s a good thing to it. I got all the fundoo gossip prior to others at work. Also, now I know my boss’ weaknesses…not that I dint previously. But now it is more legitimate.

The morning saw me attend just 2 short of a dozen meetings. One of them quite serious regarding the basic conduct and rules to be followed by everyone in the org. It started as typical meeting. But down the line became a personal mud-slinging contest and even the judges of the contest got some splotches on them. That was sad. I chose to simply watch the fun instead of actually getting down to business. And that was smart of me – for a change.

I have this strong urge to draw a picture of the top brass or br’asses’ with them indulging in a mud-wrestling contest. And probably that cud be our clincher running with the tagline “we are an equal opportunity employer”. What say ya?

I wud really be glad if one of the geniuses writing in cud explain to me as to why the monkeys at the top cant understand plain English? Read on…….

Once upon a time, there was this poor boy
Whom everyone got involved in a ploy
He was called the project coordinator
He was treated to a BIFF! BANG! SLAM! & SPLATTER
And finally he was made into a ‘remote’-controlled toy

That’s the story in a nutshell…….. Poor chap! He was in a royal soup and all coz he was trying to follow the protocol dictated by the very same top brass. Wish I cud give them a piece of my mind. But Alas! Woe Betide this wretched soul…..coz then I will be left with none.

I am getting one more in my head…..Pretend to read on.

My boss, mistakes, she always tried to find
She tried to give me a piece of her mind.
But I turned the table on her
And she became but just a blur
As I gave her a huge kick on her behind.

This is what is called “inspiration” and bitching seems to really stimulate my tiny lil grey cells to frenzied plots of activity, energy and creativity. So, Bottoms Up! To all those who love to bitch abt and around…..to all those who think it good and to all those who just bent down………

Chao!….

Drop that pair of chopsticks! Not Chow, you pig.