Today at my office, we had our annual Thanksgiving luncheon. We had the whole shebang: turkey, gravy, cranberry sauce, stuffing, ham, mac and cheese, string beans, sweet potatoes, soup, salad, and rolls. Then we had apple pie, pumpkin-coconut cake, and a Dominican cake (because we also had 4 birthday people).
My boss made a speech, which was pretty much like all the speeches he makes at any of our gatherings. In this speech he stated that we are a special group of people and he appreciates each and every one of us for what we do.
Well, what the hell else was he going to say? That we’re all a bunch of incompetent, good-for-nothings? Of course he’s got to be nice. Plus, we (that is, the office staff) put together a really nice meal. Our table was lovely, the food was delicious, and everyone had a really good time. So he had to acknowledge that.
The thing is, every time he utters these words, I feel the sharpness of their ingenuousness. He is, perhaps, being sincere where some of the staff is concerned, but I know that he doesn’t feel that way about everyone on staff, particularly me. No, indeed. He and I have butted heads many times. Not where work was concerned, but on a personal level. Suffice it to say, if I leave, he wouldn’t miss me.
I guess this is bothering me because I’m coming to the end of another year of working where I’m not happy, and the flu season is coming up very soon. That means I’ll have to start wearing a mask again for who knows how long. It’s all rather frustrating.
In the end, my boss let us go an hour early, which is highly unusual. He doesn’t let us go five minutes early on Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve, but today he gave us an hour. Between the triptophan in the turkey and the sparkling wine that we quietly placed on the table (it took the managers a while to figure out that it was on the table), he must have been feeling good. So I’m going to stop bitching now.
Thanks for listening.
R.G. Emanuelle 