I was in a meeting at work the other day and I realized just how full of shit we all sounded.  And then I wondered how much the teenage version of all us would hate the adult version of us.  The teenage version of us would probably take great pleasure in beating our respective asses.

Is this what we dreamed for ourselves?  Conference calls about budgets and PowerPoints?  ”Yeah, Jim -  How about you ‘kick that idea around a bit,’ then get back in touch with us on Wednesday.  We’ll have another equally nonproductive call at that time, then make the decision that, in reality, we should be making right now.  Butttt, I figure the longer we wait, and the more meetings we have, the more productive we’ll feel.  Be in touch.  Warmest regards.  I hate my life.”

Maybe I’m just speaking for myself, maybe I’m not.  But I spent the past two days of my professional life working on a presentation of a proposal that was given to me.  Which means I was writing a proposal - for a proposal that was already written.  But it needed to be more ‘management friendly,’ as the proposal that was given to me by the company I solicited it from was apparently ’not management friendly.’  Now granted, the presentation that I put together - for the presentation - is beautiful and useful.  But I could’ve been more productive looking at Internet porn and lighting farts on fire.

Remember when you were about 5 years old, when you were really focused on a task, like coloring in the lines of your Ninja Turtles coloring book, then get the sudden urge to run around the block and chase your neighbors dog?

I still get those urges at work.  A couple of hours ago, when I was getting sick of putting together my marketing budget, I had the sudden urge to judo chop my monitor and throw the computer tower across the room, just to see if it would go through the wall.  Then I wanted to put on gym shorts and run around the parking lot and throw Animal Crackers at all of the birds.

On second thought…