"You're using me to treat your depression, Bilta; that's scope creep", I respond in the telephone, "I'm giving you a yellow card, yo." » Y G H M®: the stories, yo
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“You’re using me to treat your depression, Bilta; that’s scope creep”, I respond in the telephone, “I’m giving you a yellow card, yo.”

“You’re using me to treat your depression, Bilta; that’s scope creep”, I respond in the telephone, “I’m giving you a yellow card, yo.”

“The lady velociraptor is not laughing at my jokes, yo”, Bilta replies into the digital.telephone, “even the one about the mushroom.”

“Are you still wearing your trucker hat?”

“Yeah–why?”

“The Thailand restaurant is a fine dining establishment–you are wearing a tie but take off your hat, out of respect.  Consider that she is uncomfortable staring at you in the candlelight with your bright green hat.”

“It looks cool, yo.”

“Only, if you’re blind”, I respond as I roll my eyes, “consider relaxing on fashion and focusing on function; you have no need for the hat there.  Wait until after you have had dinner, and, then, when you leave, put it on.”

I take a sip of soda; it’s less refreshing when he’s dumping problems into my lap.

“Consider, also”, I continue speaking as I shuffle on the couch in my living room, “donating it to charity–I’m sure that there’s someone, somewhere, that wants it, possibly, maybe?”

“I could never part with it, yo!”

“Bilta–you need to focus on the mission of showing her the finer side of Dorinto”, I respond as I shrug, “you need to be classy to teach class; you need to be professional to be a business person.  Just this once–can you suck it up and take one for the team, Bilta?”

“Do I get pay?”

“Attention”, I respond as I turn my head to the digital.TV, “as if you haven’t already maxed out my digital.account of patience.  You need to really look at how you are treating and using the people around you–no one likes to constantly be paying.  Eventually, the bill will come on your dinner, hypothetically, and, figuratively in this case, and you need to pay your own way.  That means that you can’t keep coming to me for help–you need to develop more autonomy.  You need to really look at solving your own problems–you should know that your trucker hat is causing problems and do something about it without contacting me in the middle of my favorite show.”

“What show are you watching, boss?”, Bilta replies over the digital.telephone.

“The one where you actually do your job and we have a successful business”, I respond as I take a sip of soda, “it’s quite entertaining–it’s fiction.  It’s a docu-drama about an idiot that can’t do anything but cause problems–consider DVR’ing it to watch after work.”

I take another sip of soda; it tastes a little better this time.

“Also”, I continue speaking into the telephone, “consider that this is an anamoly but I want you to start really respecting your work schedule of 9-5; it matters that you aren’t working when your shift ends.  This project is different because it’s not everyday that we have a request like this, but, still, I have been getting emails from you outside work hours and saw in your digital.video.surveilance camera that you returned to the office at 6:17pm yesterday to work for 14 minutes.”

“Yeah–I’m not charging you overtime for it.  What’s it to you, yo?”

“The point is that we have a schedule”, I respond as I sigh, “the point is that sticking to your job as work makes you successful; it’s not a hobby, and although it’s fun, when you take it serious–you get serious results.  It’s not a job–fuck jobs!  Instead, it’s a career and a vocation, treat it that way–stick to it like you have no other options.  Treat your work as if there is nothing else in Dorinto, or the world.”

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