working stupid

I met with my boss today in one of his weekly ‘Monday Morning Meetings’ which are held once every week...or whenever he remembers. Truthfully, I’m often overjoyed when his weekly meetings occur on a monthly, rather than weekly, basis.

The general topics discussed are usually things such as sales strategies (“why the hell aren’t you selling more?!”) and morale boosting (“do you like your job here? Then you better start selling more!”)

I took a seat directly across the particle board desk from my boss. “Look,” he began, “you’re just not working smart enough.”

“I don’t understand,” I responded. “I mean, I’ve been meeting all of my monthly goals. My paperwork is always done by the end of each week…and often times, I’m the last one to leave the office in the evening. I feel that my work ethic here has been impeccable.”

“No, no, your work ethic has been fine…it’s not how hard you’re working, but how smart you’re working.”

“So you think I’m working too hard?” I asked.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. You’re working hard enough, just not smart enough.”

I mulled this over for a minute, but being at a loss for words simply said, “Hmmmm.”

“You see,” he continued, “if you’d continue working just as hard, but do it in a smarter fashion, you’d get twice as many results as you’re currently getting.”

“So how do I start working smarter?”

“Smart work isn’t something that can be taught,” he told me. “It’s just something that you either have or don’t have.”

“So I’m not working smart now, and it’s not something that I’m going to learn, but you expect me to do it.”

“Exactly,” he answered, pleased that he had gotten through to me.

He swiveled around in his chair, turning his attention to his email…his subtle way of letting you know that the meeting was finished and that he had tired of you.

As I returned to my desk, my head was spinning with thoughts of hard work, and smart work, and how in the world I was going to learn all about working smartly. And working hardly. And doing both simultaneously.

I stared at my computer monitor in front of me. ‘Work smart’ I told myself…as if wishing it would cause it to happen. ‘Work hard.’ All I discovered was that it’s hard work trying to figure out what, exactly, my boss is ever trying to say…smart or not.

shiver me timbers

I saw my sister over the holiday season, and while we were catching up over a cup of coffee, she called my two year old nephew into the kitchen.

“Tell your uncle what Santa says.”

My nephew looked up at me and, in the deepest and jolliest voice that his two-year old vocal chords could muster, said, “Ho Ho Ho, and a bottle of rum!”

My sister sat, wearily shaking her head while my nephew ran off to delve back into his newly acquired toys. “I don’t know where he got this from,” she said. “I keep telling him that pirates say ‘Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum’ not ‘Ho-ho-ho and a bottle of rum’. Santa just says ‘Ho ho ho’.”

“Well,” I reasoned, “he has reindeer instead of a parrot, a sleigh instead of a ship, and they both carry around bags of loot. I guess that I can see the similarity.”

“We’re talking about Santa!” she exclaimed. “The personification of Christmas! Good tidings, generosity, and spending time with your family! Not pillaging and raping! He’s only two years old and I’ve already ruined him!”

I tried consoling her by explaining that mistaking catchphrases didn’t indicate poor parenting skills. Rather, it simply pointed out the fact that more pop-cultural knowledge was needed…something that the television would certainly provide in the years to come.

“Why don’t you try talking to him,” my sister suggested.

I headed off to the family room where I found my nephew sitting at the base of a mountainous heap of toys. I sat down and while I had the best of intentions, I couldn’t think of anyway to adequately explain the Santa-Pirate conundrum that my sister found herself in.

Still, I hated to let a learning experience pass by. So after only a few short minutes, I had my nephew running around the house yelling, “Merry Christmas Ye Mateys!”