Much ado about nothing

So this lady at the office was explaining how she was looking forward to being able to start work again, after her holiday.  Because she so enjoys her profession, it’s more of a calling really.   And I nodded, with what I think was a reasonably believable approximation of an appreciative smile.  And I added some personal comment about an admirable attitude (which in a way I really meant).  But I was also thinking about strangling her, as euthanasia.  Then later, during what must have been Brown Noser day, another guy was explaining his theory about how sad it must be for people to go to work every day, performing jobs they didn’t really like – nay love – to do.  He too tended to look forward eagerly to the end of his vacation.  

Personally, I don’t suffer from this deformation.  I can’t think of a feasible job that I would enjoy doing for the rest of my days.  I think a work-life balance is the only obtainable practical solution.  For me, life starts the minute I walk out the door.   As counterweight for unpleasant duty performance.

In general, the longer you are able to stay away – without the risk that at some point your car will be towed away – the more you will enjoy yourself.  And I can even imagine being completely happy with much less, if my household situation was different.

We’re not meant to sit through endless meetings and to spend most of our lives writing down – in as structured a fashion as possible – an eternal stream of everyday petty problems, risk evaluations and irritating inefficiencies, having to repeat them over and over, in an infinite series of formats and schedules.  The communication versus action ratio in any given organization is absurdly disproportionate, so most of the time no progress is ever made.  You can only hope that the core business doesn’t get damaged too much in the process.  

Reorganization strategies are farces, when everyone is trying to dance to 20 different tunes at the same time.  With theoretical plan upon plan being stacked sky-high, until the stacks topple over and absolute chaos is the only thing that remains crystal-clear.   Upon which time the sorting out can start over again.  Like the unchanging tide.   (Started out this post with some other ideas, … but re-reading I guess I had to get this rant off of my chest first.)  It’s a rat race in a paper mill.

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