My blind ambition and can-do attitude in this here forest of printer paper, politicking and penny-pinching executives were likely refreshing at some point… and assuredly reminded each of my cube neighbors of the same day they had walked in the door many years, or decades ago.
Now here I sit, with a bulls-eye on my forehead, typing furiously to keep up with the four jobs that have been piled on my sole plate. Cost maintenance, they call it – not layoffs like the rest of the world. I call it the demise of the high-potential, Gen Y employee & shitty management.
I’ve been given a laptop, an unlimited supply of Diet Sunkist, headphones, and a customer support team nine worlds away from me to survive. I tried to fashion a surrender flag out of the Sunkist label, but no one seems to get it… or just too frantic themselves to acknowledge it. Plus, it's sort of orange. That can be confusing. Regardless, my office humor these days seems not nearly as humorous to those who share this jungle with me.
They are all too busy looking for a job… or figuring out a way to screw up their transition documents so badly I can’t help but fail. Based on what I have seen so far, I’m confident it’s the latter. My dog could have eaten an ink cartridge and shit out clearer instructions onto paper than what these people are leaving behind. So it goes.
Back to the jungle, for now. More to come.