In a recent post, I mentioned the Devil's uncomfortable chair, and the ongoing yearlong mission for its replacement. Over the last six months, there has been another developing saga. It involves a door.
Hell can be a drafty abode and the Devil is a sensitive soul. Accordingly, when the portal to hell somehow failed, the Devil took the task of selecting a new door quite seriously. So seriously that the quest for a new door took over three months and involved more than twenty partial or complete days off work.
One Monday in mid-June, the receptionist (Cerberus, the three-headed hellhound) answered when the Devil called. Because it was the Devil, Cerberus used her (nearly) reasonable head, the one she saves just for him. Apparently, over the weekend, the portal to hell had been breached and rendered useless. The Devil was staying home to find a new door.
Weeks passed. In each one, there was at least one and frequently more than one, day off for door-related activities. Summer mellowed into autumn, autumn greyed into winter, and the pursuit of the door continued unabated. There was the selection, the purchase, the shipping, the delivery, the return, the shipping (part II), the redelivery, the fitting, the refitting, and finally, as icy Canadian winds brought the first snow--it was installed.
The time off was one thing. Worse--much worse--the Devil recounted each stage of the saga to anyone he could trap with the loving detail that Wagner brought to the Ring Cycle. Not since Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the Schlosskirche in Wittenberg has so much attention been paid to a door. If he was in the middle of one particular aspect of the Doorelungenleid when one joined a meeting, he would start all over again so no one missed anything. Hence, each of us heard the core story, with varying ancillary details, almost everyday he worked during the time of the door.
At one such meeting, after the door had been thoroughly vetted, until we were as glazed and unresponsive as climbers with acute mountain sickness, the conversation was mercifully turned to the annual holiday party. The Devil said that he and Barbie would be happy to host the event, and would even supply a deli tray, although they could not be as generous as in years past owing to the strain on the household budget occasioned by the door. In response, the Voice offered to host at her house. The offer was gratefully accepted by all. Only later did the Voice discover that she had incurred Satan's wrath by denying him the opportunity he had so looked forward to: showing us all the Door.
Abandon all hope, Ye who enter here.
Once upon a time, I was young and naive . . .
Like every good fairy tale with a beautiful princess (me) and an evil villain (the Devil), this story begins with a once upon a time.
Once upon a time, I was young and naive. I believed that, while there might be evil people in the world, I wouldn't run in to many of them. Then I met my current boss.
He wasn't even my boss when I met him. He had been lurking for some time in the underbrush at my employer, making other people's lives miserable. My co-workers would complain about him, telling outrageous stories about how difficult he was, what a control freak he could be, how he would make a simple meeting scheduled to last for thirty minutes into a half-day of mindless droning interspersed with fiery ranting. I would laugh and laugh. I thought: What whiners. What babies. He can't be that bad.
Then the ax fell on my wonderful, understanding, hardworking boss, and the Devil showed up, throwing away her potted plants and shredding anything that looked like it might complicate his job. Of course, he didn't really know how things worked, so he turned to me. He promised me pretty things, like a promotion and a raise, a title, an office, and my own secretary, if I could help him make sense of his new responsibilities. I was already in a weakened condition, because I missed my old boss. So I took his proferred apple, and became Eve, fallen from grace and ensnared by the Devil.
I've had 2500 days with the Devil. That's 26o work days a year, for 11+ years. For each year, subtract 1 actual sick day and 9 mental health days [110], three weeks of vacation [165], and 8 holidays (New Year's Day, Presidents' Day, Memorial Day, July 4, Labor Day, Thanksgiving (2 days), and Christmas) [88], and you get 2500 days.
Of course, if this really were a fairy tale, there would be a tidy little ending where the Devil would get his comeuppance and I (or at least someone) would get to live happily ever after. I'm working on it, believe me. But in the meantime, misery loves company. So meet the Devil. You're gonna love working for him.
Once upon a time, I was young and naive. I believed that, while there might be evil people in the world, I wouldn't run in to many of them. Then I met my current boss.
He wasn't even my boss when I met him. He had been lurking for some time in the underbrush at my employer, making other people's lives miserable. My co-workers would complain about him, telling outrageous stories about how difficult he was, what a control freak he could be, how he would make a simple meeting scheduled to last for thirty minutes into a half-day of mindless droning interspersed with fiery ranting. I would laugh and laugh. I thought: What whiners. What babies. He can't be that bad.
Then the ax fell on my wonderful, understanding, hardworking boss, and the Devil showed up, throwing away her potted plants and shredding anything that looked like it might complicate his job. Of course, he didn't really know how things worked, so he turned to me. He promised me pretty things, like a promotion and a raise, a title, an office, and my own secretary, if I could help him make sense of his new responsibilities. I was already in a weakened condition, because I missed my old boss. So I took his proferred apple, and became Eve, fallen from grace and ensnared by the Devil.
I've had 2500 days with the Devil. That's 26o work days a year, for 11+ years. For each year, subtract 1 actual sick day and 9 mental health days [110], three weeks of vacation [165], and 8 holidays (New Year's Day, Presidents' Day, Memorial Day, July 4, Labor Day, Thanksgiving (2 days), and Christmas) [88], and you get 2500 days.
Of course, if this really were a fairy tale, there would be a tidy little ending where the Devil would get his comeuppance and I (or at least someone) would get to live happily ever after. I'm working on it, believe me. But in the meantime, misery loves company. So meet the Devil. You're gonna love working for him.
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