The Workplace Improvement Committee

At my job, I’ve long been part of a workplace improvement committee. It's a nice idea — workers and management types sit around the same table (lately it's been a 'virtual' table) and brainstorm ideas for improving efficiency — but it's about 80% bullshit. Management runs the meetings, and most of my ideas are shot down. It's easier than working, though, and participating makes me look good. And before the coronavirus sent everyone home, they served really good pastries.

Our meetings are every Tuesday afternoon, and an email this morning announced that today we'd have a special guest speaker — one of the company's top executives, who'd talk about upcoming changes to workflow as two key processes are outsourced.

I’m one of those key processes being outsourced.

Since I’m working from home, I didn't have to mutter under my breath. I screamed an obscenity quite loudly, and of course, blew off the meeting. But at two minutes past the meeting's scheduled start time, I received a text message from the committee head — one of the executives, naturally. “Hurry up and log in," he typed, "today’s meeting sounds interesting.”

How can someone so out of touch with reality knot his own necktie in the morning? Or does an employee do that for him?

I’d love to have Skyped into the meeting to ask several pointed questions and drop a few more f-bombs, but instead I chewed on one of the watermelon THC edibles my sister sent for my birthday. When I’d mellowed enough, I emailed my resignation from the workplace improvement committee.



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  1. Knot his necktie a little tighter.

  2. I was going to say why not go to the meeting and speak your mind, but I guess you doint want to lose your severance package.


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