February 6, 2004
CHEWING MY CUD
I saw some good people get whacked yesterday. I saw some good people get their job titles compressed, as well. But I mostly saw some jackasses get what they deserved. Which is what they'll say when my turn comes in 45 days, no doubt.
I awoke to the news of the discovery of Carlie's body today. She was my Caroline's age. I simply cannot imagine that kind of grief, and therefore being enmeshed in a mere work-related contretemps was more of a sideshow than anything. My only consolation is this crime happened here in Florida, where there is, shall we say, a certain appetite for capital punishment. An appetite whetted by the monsters we catch, or, sadly, attract.
As far as gainful employment goes: I was looking for a job when I found this one, as they say, and I remark the fact I haven't seen anyone leave this company in the last five years who didn't better themselves in the process.
Life is all about risk-taking, although I thought I'd channeled my risk-taking to my occasional excursions to the Dominican Republic (motto: "If it doesn't fall off in 24 hours, it's not our fault").
I've covered my back, and I have a second career underway discreetly. I cannot be compromised. And THAT, friends, is when you do your best work. I've been in the position of needing my job, and that creates a cautious, timid, recalcitrant employee. When you're free of that corporate tit, and that need, you can do brilliant work. You can poke, cajole, question, ridicule, beseech. You can do what they paid you for in the first place, in other words.
And now I'm going to light a candle for a little life lost.