Bring out your dead!

I’ve been instructed to tell you that I am still alive – at least nominally. On the other hand, I could just be a clone and my original body has been origamied into the freezer we keep in the archive for some reason. There’s a hefty lock on it and nobody seems to know where the key is, so short of bringing in my bolt-cutters, I can only speculate.

I do know that my company will be in weapons-grade doo-doo if I expire before completing my current project, so while they are invested in keeping me functional, the task deadlines are stupidly unreasonable and that places some rather onerous demands on my time.

Home life continues to emulate a kinetic sculpture fashioned out of a spinning fan and ballistic turd launcher and I’m not strong enough to get into that just yet. What do we say to the God of Disaster? Not today!

Pascal’s Wager in reverse

Those who can, do. Those who can’t, get fast-tracked into a management position.

During the years I’ve spent working at this particular circus, my alleged betters really went the extra mile to ensure that my distress tolerance got turned all the way up to eleven. It’s probably why I’ve managed to survive the various health crises my shitty genetics have thrown at me. On the off chance there’s a Hell, I will probably fit right in.

I used to be in middle-management, but my obvious distaste for rectal spelunking saw me being demoted back into the ranks of the competent. I am now a “specialist”, which means my charge-out rate is extortionate, but my take-home is pitiful. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but it is still vastly better than coprophagia.

However, if that’s your thing, we may have an opening for you.

Let me get back to you on that

If I did have a functional time machine, I certainly wouldn’t piss the opportunity up against the wall on something as trivial as work. Oh wow man, déjà vu.

I’d probably do something seriously anti-social, like visit the Middle East and convince the Bronze Age tribes there that I’ve been sent by the Almighty to… oh, hang on – I already did that, didn’t I?

Man, this gets confusing.

Diligence is its own reward

In other news, I visited my parents over the weekend so I could photograph their pet spider (no, really!). En route, took a detour via the local optometrist to get the hinge on my sunglasses fixed.

The lady behind the counter not only provided me with a shiny new fastener free and gratis, but she also kindly offered to polish my lenses for me at no extra charge.

It isn’t every day you get a free screw and clean-up afterwards.