Shrimp dinner in-hand, my coat still on, the hijacker known only by the code name Boss, opens his mouth and utters the phrase that causes grown-ups to stick their fingers in their ears and sing. “tra la la la” (What’s that? Did you say something?)

“Can we see you a minute?” he says. “In the publisher’s office?”

I want to say, “No, you can’t actually. I have work to do and have no desire to know what goes on behind the curtain and who’s at the controls.”

Instead I leap up and click my heels. “Race ya!”

Smiling at the suits, I tell them, “I know what this is about.”

Now I have their attention. “You do?” (almost in unison!)

 “Of course!! You love my (work place) blog so much and want to publish it as a book! And of course you can!”

The mood lightens. We laugh. But the annoying phrases fall from their mouths and thunder is heard in the distance.

“Restructuring editorial operations”

“Regionalizing production”

“Cost-saving measures”

“We encourage you to reapply for one the new positions”

And I’ll know in 7 days if I’ve been restructured out the door … or if I’ll have a cool new title!

“Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”
Argh. Dr. Seuss.

Here. This is better: “I don’t want to talk to you no more … your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries.”
Monty Python can right any world.