I like working Mondays. I really do. They come with their own set of true pre-conceived notions. So if things go awry and I get swamped with work, I say "Hey! It's Monday. What else do I expect?". And if the day gets to an un-eventful end, I am like "Wow! What a cool Monday!" Good or bad, Mondays are very upfront about themselves.
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The same however cannot be said of undercover Mondays. Undercover Mondays can be any other day of the work-week except Monday when deadlines seem destined to slip, issues crop up over long completed tasks, the boss catches you on G-Mail the only second you had in all day to open it up, defensive/offensive e-mails with you in the centre are flying around, the world seems to be headed to a depressing end and such like. It's the Monday like feeling on a day which is not a Monday hence a terrible, terrible situation to find oneself in.
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In steps the 'frenemy'. What do you suppose that means? The 'frenemy' is in all of us, sadistic cubicle bound prisoners. The kind of person who is a friend for all practical purposes, most probably a peer but also someone who takes secret/not-so-secret glee in the predicaments of other colleagues. After all, it all seems funny when someone else messes up or is perceived to mess up. So here comes the 'frenemy' prancing into my cubicle wearing the ghost of a smile, fully aware of my undercover Monday in progress through overheard conversations, CCed e-mails etc and asks THE question of the day "So... how's things?"
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There remains only one way to salvage the situation then without exploding into a tirade about how life tied my hands behind my back and then asked me to help signal a fighter plane take-off on the runway; without throttling my 'frenemy' with my bare hands and then throwing him off the highest point on the land within a few miles. I know because I have seen days like this before... almost everyone has. This too shall pass and in the meantime I need a polite way to say "B@#$%^d, remember that time when it happened to you." without bringing things to a boil, either on his end or mine.
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So I look up, away from all that on-screen activity which remotely resembles the ruined land of Mordor just after Sauron took over it, stitching a smile onto my face and going face-to-face with the 'frenemy'. "You know..." and after taking a long, meaningful, appropriate pause "Fun! Fun! Fun!"
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1 comment:
I think you will soon come out with a book of yours.
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