I was thinking about trainable monkeys today, thinking about the ones that answer the phones and light cigarettes for quadriplegics…
I don’t always think of monkeys. But somewhere in my mind is the idea that there are parts of my job to which a monkey may pay more attention...
A minor misunderstanding recently regarding the number of copies required for a meeting had me dramatically overprinting a document needed right-freaking-now to the tune of at least one Douglas Fir.
OK. Maybe not a whole tree. Maybe just a good branch.
What is the tree-to-paper ratio, anyway?
And as if being ecologically suicidal weren’t enough, to suffer the look of disappointment and incredulity on my boss’s face! Have you seen that look? It's the look that says, “We’ve spectacularly under-estimated your ability to take direction, Pearl; and we’ve hired a well-dressed and reasonably intelligent monkey to take your place. You may go now.”
I hate that look.
In all fairness to me, the directions were vague and 20 minutes prior to their deadline.
And in all fairness to him, he didn’t know he needed them until the last minute.
But that’s how it is, isn’t it?
I'm thinking of bananas for dinner tonight! Take-out.
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