The Evil Eye

I started this new blog primarily to moan and groan (and hopefully cheer) about my working life.

Huh, what did you say? Oh yes, about my love life. Hopefully more to cheer about! :)

It's kind of full circle - going back to where I started 10 years ago. The reason why I dreaded rejoining the place (which I'll call The Sphere) was because nothing has changed five years after I've left it.

The Sphere still has an atomosphere that is filled with ass-covering tactics and meetings that only true-blue denizens of the Sphere thrive on. In fact, meetings are their lifeblood, committees the instruments of execution and decisions that pay homage to the household gods of The Sphere, are passports to career Nirvana.

It is with trepidation and foreknowledge that I attend 4 consecutive interviews held by The Sphere.

The chief interrogator (a friend of the boss of yours truly) vaugely remembered who I was. What she didn't remember was who my boss was. It's actually alright if you don't remember who my boss was, but to insist that a certain Ms X was my boss (when Mr Y should have been nearer the truth) borders on the ludicrous.

The sad thing is, no one dared to contradict the chief interrogator. Otherwise known as the Evil Eye.

I tried to smile weakly as EE reeled off a few possible names as my boss. An underling, sensing my discomfort, piped up and declared that my boss was Mr Y.

EE turned on the hapless underling and with a single glare, fried the underling to a crisp.

Amidst the smell of burning acrid flesh, my mind was working feverishly to answer the questions barked at me.

"Yes, no, don't know, I think so. Izzit?"

At the end of an hour, I felt as if I've just escaped from a pack of wolves. Went home to lie down to recover from such a harrowing experience.