Iz Monday, I'm the boss, and I'm calling a corporate meeting. This is my meeting jam.
Looks like everyone is here. I have a tiny staff. I do all my own office management. The votes on new business are always 100% once I wrap my whole brain around whatever's going on. Right now we're discussing dropping a couple of items off this week's agenda in order to retain the integrity of productivity and other big words. No one is protesting, nods and grunts of agreement all around.
So that's it then, we drop the scheduled item on Tuesday and route the problem through a trial holding pattern, and if it's not resolved by next week we'll throw it back on the table. Objections? None. Moving on.
Dissension is stirring about powering through a month of physical therapy on top of cold and flu season as we watch everyone around us dropping like flies. I rule with an iron fist- PT is mandatory. There will be no whining! And now everyone is calling me mean behind my back.
I bring up the fact that actors power through cold and flu viruses for filming schedules all. the. time., and does anyone notice or care? NO! Staff immediately scatters into uncontrollable keyboard searches trying to prove me wrong, ending up with 13 things you didn't know about Benedict Cumberbatch (but definitely need to), Benedict Cumberbatch dishes on Sherlock's sex life, and Your Cold Corpses on pinterest.
Ok, this meeting went all to hell a little too quickly.
|oh wtf, just click for a Ben board, you coffee beanheads|
I was going to tear the bed apart and switch to the winter flannel, but I got only 4 hours of sleep last night and I think I need to send my entire staff back to bed. I'll let them play around a little longer before I tell them, let them think they're getting away with murder on company time, and then they'll cheer and think I'm an awesome boss. I really am. I care about my people. I'll change the sheets out tomorrow since we're rescheduling tomorrow around anyway.
Ok, let's see, I need something to distract my wayward slackers away from their keyboards. Maybe they'll follow me like the Pied Piper if I walk away with this going. It doesn't make sense, but it's Monday, nothing makes sense on Monday anyway. It's Monday morning meeting #bencongruity going back to bed party music.