Just you wait ’til your CEO gets home!

I’ll preface today’s post by admitting that my imagination is a little like an old bed sheet that has been used as a picnic blanket; every now and again it needs to be taken outside and shaken to get rid of all the crumbs, dead bugs, and evidence of food fights. Sometimes it even needs rigorous stain treatment and a long soak in a fresh-scented detergent. It might also help if I folded it up neatly at the end of the day to keep it looking like, what I believe to be, “normal people’s” imaginations.

Yes. Well… I have tried that, but I keep waking up with the bedding strewn everywhere. I guess I should be grateful that the mattress is still on the box spring.


That being said, here’s what fell out when I shook it this morning – it’s kind of like that Forrest Gump saying – you never know what you’re going to get. 😀



Some of us still remember the halcyon days when your job was your life, your coworkers were like family, and people often worked for one employer all their lives.

What the hell happened?


“I’ll love you for the rest of my life! But, if I don’t, we can always get a divorce,”

“Darling, we had a good thing, while it lasted, but I’ve started seeing other companies.”

“I’m taking the kids. You can have the dog, and the old, beat-up Jeep.”

“Daddy, don’t you love us anymore?”

“Kids… we have to make the best of it. I’m going to marry NewSpouse Corporation and we’ll have a whole new family. It will be fun… just like the Brady Bunch!”

“Mom! Why does Bobby get a whole dollar for taking out the trash, and I only get 70 cents?”

“Dad! WHY do I get to do all the crappy jobs? You never make Greg do this. It’s not fair!”

“Why can’t I have my OWN office, Mom?”

“I’m sorry I can’t meet you for a burger, Trixie; I’ve got homework, chores, computer repairs for the guy next door, walking the neighbors’ dogs, and then I have to babysit before I have the money to splurge on frivolous things like food.”

“We’re sorry kids. Trying to meld two families together is just not working for us. The people who paid for the wedding are demanding a new beach house. Some of you have to go.”

“If you’d just worked harder, and stopped whining about pocket money…”

“Mom? Dad? What do you mean, you’re ‘selling us into slavery?’”


“It’s OK, darlings…eat up! They say crickets are the new bacon!”

“What’s ‘bacon,’ Mom?”




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