Storm's a Comin' Ma!

It’s quiet and peaceful now. It’s morning. If you listen carefully you can hear the morning song of the doves perched in the tree on the front yard. It’s a soothing song. It’s a happy song. It’s a song that makes you forget that the coming week is going to be filled with tempest and turmoil. I don’t even have a fool to accompany me.

You see, he’s going to return. Our manager of unhappy memory, and he will bring all of the stress, frustration, unreasonable demands, and stuborn temperament with him. The four horsemen of our office apocalypse. Warning signs of the impending storm began on Friday. Our pagers rang with orders, requests for information and demands from a person who was supposed to be enjoying a holiday from the office. Perhaps being hopelessly anal prevents any real enjoyment in the wolrd at large. How much worse will it be when he is slamed by the results of the survey of revolt?

While I fear his unbearableness will ascend unto new heights, as to yet unimagined, there are bright points. Everyone in the department is is actively seaking their own transport to another place and position. I’ve received at least three calls of interest about my services. So while the dark cloud begins to cover the land and the potatos grow no more, we are all booking our passages to “America” and better new lives.

Picture by John Daly