You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
Micromanaging.
I feel like a rat in a maze. Go this way. Push the button. Go left, go right, go left. Now check in with the cock roach in the corner.
Anybody got any cheese? Somebody punch my clock.
Are you Micromanaging my ass?
I don’t like managers. I certainly don’t like micro managers.
Is this nursery school? Is this business school 101?
Should I suck my thumb? Should I raise my hand to go to the bathroom?
Mrs. Dinglefritz, I think I wet my pants! Do you have a moist towelette?
At what point does a professional who has been spit on and shot at, have to check in with bag boys at the local supermarket to go home?
I want a breath freshener. Is it OK if I buy tic tacs?
Please sir, may I have some more?
I just threw up in my mouth Mrs. Dinglefritz. I just thought I should tell you because you would want to know that right? You want to know everything about me, right? Well it tastes like stomach bile and grill cheese. Is that TMI for you?
Micromanaging.
It’s a form of corporate control. It’s a big thumb stuck in my optic nerve reminding me that I have to call you boss.
Is that a note pad in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?
Yessa Massah, I be a good boy today, suh.
“I’m not trying to micromanage you,” Mrs. Dinglefritz says. “But the other Nazi’s who spy on you for me say you didn’t check out and punch the clock and get down on your knees and pay homage to the corporate seal on the wall.”
Arf Arf Arf.
I’m sorry. I forgot to bark like the little bitch you want me to be.
Micromanage this you ever lasting gobstopper.
Don’t you realize I’m untamable? I’m a pony on the plains. I’m running hard, galloping like I don’t care, because I don’t. I got a cool breeze on my face and the wind in my mane. I’m free and fast and I run where I want to run. Micromanaging? That’s a saddle on my back, right? That’s a bit in my mouth, right?
Take your tools of control and harness up another mule you can ride to the corporate credo.
This pony is free. I don’t have a time card or a punch clock.
Get out of my Maze. We don’t need no stinking cheese.
I’m an independent operator with a penchant for radical insanity. I play my cards down and dirty, without a whole lot of preconceived thought.
Check out? Check In?
Kiss my ass.
Like a kindergartner in the time out chair, I’m not having any of it.
I’ll do my time and stack my blocks, and then you know what?
When you turn on the lights and tell me to go back to my cubbie, I’m going to snidely snicker and then kick those God Damn blocks all over the room.
Wooops!
I’m going to walk right past you and hand you a Lego and tell you stick that where the son don’t shine.
That’s how I macromanage micromanagers.
Life’s Crazy™