Saturday, April 20, 2013

I Have A Little Issue

I have a little issue that goes in and out with me,
And the way that I can deal with it is more than I can see.
It's very, very frustrating to see it every day,
It grinds upon my nerves in a most irritating way.

The annoying thing about it is the phony nice facade--
The way that it agrees with me and gives a kindly nod.
It weekly moves my desks around to complicate my life.
To bring that up in passing would create a load of strife.

It doesn't understand the way of pecking order proper,
It circumvents my wishes in the dumping of my hopper.
It scoots my rolly chair around to suit its own agenda.
A double's all I lack to make a prisoner of Zenda.

Each morning when I see the handiwork that's taken place,
I wish I had the nerve to simply tell it to its face:
"You aren't fooling anyone, your goal is plain to see,
You misplace your aggression and you take it out on me."

Let me leave you with an analogy. Captain is to ship as teacher is to classroom.


Sioux said...

That damned custodian! File an official grievance. Or, engage in some of the "ideas" I suggested a while ago...

Kathy's Klothesline said...

Like all those campers who move all my picnic tables to one site?

Hillbilly Mom said...

I would rather endure the battles right now, rather than wage a war. Because my issue is so darn efficient, I will be seen as a nitpicker who unreasonably demands that my desks remain in optimum traffic arrangement instead of being lined up on arbitrary tile squares to better facilitate sweepage.

HOW DARE THEY! When Farmer H and I lived in separate apartments in the days before our courting commenced, he took the apt. complex picnic table and put it in his extra parking space. His reasoning? "Anybody is welcome to join me, or use it when I'm not at home."