My job not only demands biting your tongue idiomatically, it's like biting your tongue literally.
You chew flawlessly every day. The jaw goes down, the jaw comes up, your teeth meet, rinse & repeat. You perform this task hundreds, thousands, even millions of times without incident or acknowledgment. But, the one little time you slip up your body will not let it go unnoticed.
"Nice job, dummy. You screwed up."
Never mind all the days and all the times you did everything correct. Never mind your 99.9% average chewing success rate. No appreciation there. No, the only thing that matters is when performing this one particular bite, this one particular time, on this one particular day, you failed.
And, it's very important to make you wince and feel the throbbing so you won't repeat that .1% behavior again. Because that .1% is overshadowing the 99.9% and killing business.
My job is like meals at a restaurant.
I have a friend who use to say it's always more fun to experience the magic than it is to create it. It's true, isn't it?
For my mom's birthday every year we would go out to dinner. And, every year my mom would push away from the table and contend, "That was delicious. And the best part is, I didn't have to make it or clean it up."
All we see is pretty food on a plate. All we taste is yummy on our tongue. We don't see the years of education, and the hours of labor--the chopping, slicing, marinating, deboning, mixing--the slaving over a hot stove all day, and the sinks of suds and grime. All we see is the appetizing part; the pretty picture; the flower when it's in bloom.
Every year thousands of tourists patron Holland to see the tulip festival. Visitors marvel at the magnitude, the beauty, and the design, but months before almost no one is around to bend their back and get their knees dirty digging holes and planting bulb after bulb.
Sometimes people say to me, "You must have the best job in the world." Not exactly. On its most gracious days it's a half hour tulip festival followed by two hours of grimy suds.
My job is like eating chocolate cake.
Miss Trunchbull, the unctuous, domineering, abhorrent antagonist of the book Matilda calls for an immediate assembly of the entire student body. There, she brings a porky boy named Bruce Bogtrotter to the stage. Bruce has been caught stealing a piece of chocolate cake. The entire student body is on edge to see what vile thing she is going to do to Bruce.
She gives him chocolate cake.
The student body is stunned. Even Bruce is confounded. Giving him the thing he enjoys most seems more like a reward than a punishment. Bruce happily indulges in the chocolate scrumptiousness, enjoying every bit of cake on the plate. But, Miss Trunchbull doesn't stop there.
"You look like you enjoyed that, Brucey."
"Yes, Ma'am," he mutters with his mouth full.
Miss Trunchbull leans in closer. "You must have some more."
She brings out a ginormous cake as big as Bruce himself.
Bruce shakes his head. "No, thanks," he tries.
"But, you'll hurt Cook's feelings. She made this cake just for you to have on your very own. Her sweat and blood went into this cake and you will not leave this platform until you have consumed the entire confection!!"
"You wanted cake," she grumbles, "you got cake! Now, EAT IT!!"
With each increasing bite Bruce's demeanor worsens. His face is pale and woozy. He looks like chocolate puke will explode any minute. It's delicious taste has obviously become poisonous, yet Bruce is forced to shove forkful after forkful down his throat.
Even chocolate cake which is delectable and yummy in the beginning can turn venomous.
My job is like living in the land of Oz.
For a company with an open-door policy, there are a lot of people--wizards who hold our job and our fate with the company in their hands--who we never see, are never allowed to see, and who stay behind curtains.
We are not to pay any attention to what goes on behind curtains.
And there are many, many curious things that happen behind the curtains.
I suppose it's also like living in The Capitol. There seems to be a lot of power and a lot of facade. And, no one really knows the truth...
But, the one thing we do know is you don't whistle while The Capitol is watching. And The Capitol is always watching.
My job is like a televangelist.
People are willing to pay fortunes to those who can give them hope and the stability to dream. Such is the product we're paid to peddle. It brings out a lot of good and provides a lot of happy moments for a lot of people. But, a quick look at the tax returns, expense reports, and company receipts provides its own enlightenment.
It's very informative to see where all this blessed money actually goes and where it doesn't.
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