days when we were green
summed up in our wildest dreams:
just wanting to be

confuse me again
with the words you say I said
but don’t remember

deadline approaching,
and I’ve still not decided
what to do without

oh, the tragedy!
who’ll donate to my campaign
when they are all gone?

afternoon meetings
cut down runaway rumors
– like mowing the lawn

*
Ever notice how people are when rumors start?

Lately my work environment has become prone to rampant rumors. I suppose it’s part of the territory in tense economic times. Uncertainty is inevitable these days, even in relatively strong companies. What brings it home to me is that I find myself in a position to be asked about every idiotic rumor that comes down the line. They’re rarely rational. In fact, I’ve been noticing the popularity of a rumor tends to be inversely proportional to how realistic it is.

The other annoying thing about these types of on-the-job, sky-is-falling rumors is that too many people will believe a staggeringly incredible, painstakingly detailed lie over a calm, simple refutation of said lie. Here’s a (slightly) fictitious example of what I mean:

concerned coworker: “Have you heard they’re going to eliminate all our jobs and replace us with alien workers?”
me: “You mean like migrant workers?”
concerned coworker: “No, I mean real aliens! From space!”
me: “That’s ridiculous.”
concerned coworker: “No, it’s true — Stan from QC told me he saw a large, strange-looking truck outside that he’s never seen before. He told me he heard from his supervisor that they have Martians in the back of the truck in little refrigerated pods, and they’re going to start assimilating them into the workforce next Monday! You mean you really don’t know about this? ‘Cause I thought you’d already know…”
me: “Nope, I haven’t heard a word about it — but that’s probably just because it’s completely untrue. You do understand what you’re saying is ridiculous, right?”
concerned coworker: “Are you sure Howard? — ’cause I wouldn’t put anything past those greedy bastards upstairs.”

Don’t worry, that wasn’t supposed to make sense. I just wanted to give you a slight handle on what I’ve been putting up with for the past two weeks.

It’s not that I’d ever put anything past those “greedy bastards upstairs.” It’s just that the scenario was utterly idiotic, yet in many ways as believable as some of the rumors people have been regurgitating to me. And by the time I’ve finally talked most of my panick-stricken coworkers off their ledge, somewhere beyond my scope of awareness, tomorrow’s best-selling horror story has already taken root.

Come to think of it, it’s not so much like mowing the lawn as it is pulling weeds.