Can You Dig It?

I'd have written sooner, but I've been busy tunneling my way out of my new office. I've started digging through the floor under my desk with a coffee spoon from the kitchenette. (I return it each night because I'm sure the spoons have all been counted. It goes back looking a little less like a spoon and a little more like one of those miniature shovels 18th English squires used to use for snuff, but i've bought some snuff, and if I have to, I'll start taking it. It would be a good excuse to get away from my desk, too. I could go hang out with the smokers in front of the building on my snuff breaks.)

I've taken my cue from Clint Eastwood in "Escape from Alcatraz" and ordered an accordion to cover the growing hole. My only fear is that I'll be called upon to play it at some company function and be exposed as a fraud. On the other hand, I may just be exposed as a really bad accordion player, and rather than becoming suspicious, people will just pity me and applaud and buy my CD.

If I make it through my floor, of course, it will only get me to the floor below, and I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to dig a hole under somebody else's desk, but I figure I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

In the meantime, I have to attend a seminar on how to talk about my company in my free time. Apparently, bitching about being overworked and underpaid, speculating about how much each of your colleague's makes, and quoting promotional materials and laughing and laughing and laughing JUST ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH. I'm rusty, I worked for the People's News Agency for six years and they were so unconcerned about their corporate image, they let a retarded guy from a Communist weekly appear at press conferences all over Prague wearing a shoulderbag emblazoned with the People's News Agency logo.

Anyway, if I sound all gungho about my job the next time I write here it will either mean the pod people have got me... or I've been fired.

Care to lay any bets?