remake/remodel

associate QA analyst

After reading the last entry, you might think me an ingrate, one sadly lacking in perspective. But this is not so. For example: Today at work, a staff meeting was held, and the executive who runs our site stood before the west washrooms with a microphone and briefed us on our present difficulties, our strained customer relations, and our company’s outlook. After a nervous speech, she fielded questions, and the questions were hard; self-consciously talented software developers with six-figure incomes are an implacable lot.

“Why does Evilcorp micromanage us and strip our humble jobs of all joy?” they asked. And: “Evilcorp has revenues in excess of ten million million dollars, so why is our budget so meager?” And: “Will Evilcorp keep us in its employ after Q2, or will we be cast on the streets again?” And: “Why must Evilcorp make me complete seven forms in triplicate every day when one will surely do?”

Before the executive could answer another question, I began to talk. “Saturday night, a nine-year old boy whose eyes seemed impossibly large through his glasses asked me if I had ever disassembled a Gameboy, then told me that I am Harry Potter. Coming home, the radio played my new favorite song then crackled away into noise. I kissed my girlfriend twenty-seven times on the cheek before falling asleep. This morning, I saw a black and white kitten jump through the bushes, trying to catch a red dragonfly. At the stoplight, I told the homeless man that UT wouldn’t win the next game and I gave him a cigarette.” My manager cleared his throat to speak, and I spoke faster. I clambered onto a Herman Miller office chair. “I am an associate QA analyst, of minor importance and little ambition. In this world, cruel if you like, possibility nevertheless abounds all around us and there are occasions for epiphany and wonder. Under your desk is a pot of gold. Inside your paycheck is a rainbow.” I leapt into the air and danced from head to head. “I hate my boss, but a boss is as a boss does. I could murder him in exactly ninety-nine ways, but I don’t.” I ran out the exit without swiping my employee badge — violating procedure, triggering innumerable sirens and buzzers — and though I was standing outside with a cigarette, to the company, I had never left the building.