My Family | Slow Death | Corporate Heat Lamp

Corporate Heat Lamp

Typing in the background, not the good kind, the kind that dissolves the soul with every “click, click, click.” Idle chit chat over my right shoulder, story lines surrounding the next episode of XYZ nighttime drama, stupid husbands, spoiled kids and extra pounds. The florescent lights flicker; we’re slowly being cooked under the corporate heat lamp. You can’t cook them too quickly. Bitterness, regret and indifference take years to age. You have to season Susan over in accounting with just the right amount of “Great job” and “Way to be a team player” before you baste her with “There’s no room in the budget for a raise.” It’s a delicate process.