Performance goals vs bullWHAT?

I'm wracking my brain trying to come up with something, anything to fill in the mile-long bullshit performance review document this company has just come up with, what a nightmare!

Each goal must be stated in a quantifiable and measurable format (e.g., quantity, magnitude, timeliness, cost, quality, etc.) and the expected behaviors (e.g., work collaboratively, listen to customers, demonstrate judgment, etc.).

Fuck! Speak English for crissake!

I hate these things with a passion.

My head is spinning with stabbing pain (Vegas says I have to learn to ask for massages and not expect him to offer them... this is when I miss my ex), it's again a sauna outside and hrmph, I just don't feel like smiling at the world today except to kiss its ass. Which doesn't taste like chocklit.

I know what the problem is: our bed is just too damn comfy, that's what. It takes superhuman effort to wrench ourselves out if its cooshy embrace at 6:30am - so take my word, don't buy a latex mattress or you too will suffer!

Mouahahahhaha.

OK, time for a 2nd coffee and attacking the pile of work on my desk, all the while doing half-hearted ab work on my chair to the tune of screaming kids outside in the playground near the office.

I miss being a kid, I really do. Remember summer days with popsicles melting all over your hands and you didn't care? No worries about unshaven legs or messy hair back then, either. No period cramps, spotty faces or maladjusted bras and who ever cared if you had garlic breath? No to-do lists that involved ironing or cleaning the toilet, no errands to run or dog poop to pick up.

Ah yes. Those were the days.

/back to I Am Seven Years Old Again In My Dreams post/