October 30, 2014 7 Comments
September 2, 2013 25 Comments
Although I always say that laughing at the malfunction of the universe is better than crying about it, I must admit that I just can’t laugh when my noodle twists and ponders about the mysteries of the world. That is until I was able to answer them with satisfaction:
Read more of this post
May 16, 2011 Leave a comment
In today’s economy when jobs are as scarce as hair on a bald man’s head, it is of vital importance not to piss of your BFH (Boss From Hell). Now, one can objectively argue that an employee should speak his or her mind during a meeting when they think the boss is wrong or misguided because doing so promotes an open discussion in finding a workable solution to the problem at hand.
If one were working for a reasonable person devoid of vanity, insecurity, insanity and other negative “itys” the BFH might have, that claim would be true. But in my world where the “ity” filled BFH can evoke the powers of Satan against you, that is not the case. I’m being nebulous about the situation because I’m trying to protect the innocent (ME).
So, I kept quiet and nodded my head (like a bobblehead because that’s what BFH wanted) and after the meeting I spoke to the BFH in private and tried to loosely employ the Socratic method of discourse. I asked questions such as:
In proceeding with your ordered strategy, could we explore its implications to our existing clients?
Could we take another look at “the decision” (notice how I did not say the BFH’s decision because that can be construed as a direct attack) and see how we can tweak it to further maximize our benefits?
Could we explore other possibilities to make this more cost-effective?
I said the above and more when what I really wanted to say was: “You made a crappy decision. You don’t know what the hell you’re doing. You should be cleaning offices instead of running it.”
BFH agreed to reconsider the matter. I don’t think BFH was angry. I didn’t see Satan lurking in the hallways. Hell, I hate office politics. Where’s my orgasmic food?