A Day in the Life of a Bee

A Day in the Life of a Bee

Posted by A Great Liar

“Well, you just made my day.” I studied the sketch she has drawn and sighed. For all she was worth as an artist, the guy inside the canvas simply didn’t look like me.

“Something wrong?” She frowned.

“No.” I replied. “Nothing. It’s just that I could never relate much to sketches and drawings. Don’t have an eye for an art I suppose.”

Silence followed.

I continued. “By the way, something really stinks at my office these days.”

She looked towards me. “What? Is it some girl?”

“Oh no.” I replied. “I steer clear of all things feminine in the office; I mean we have enough of Piccolos playing Dudley-do-right back there, as it were. No, it ain’t that. It’s the new timing.”

“What new timing?” She asked.

“The working hours for my department.” I told her. “As from 9 to 6, it’s now being changed to 11 to 8.”

“Is it so bad?” She asked. “I mean you can stay up late and do all that crazy stuff you are into.”

“Bad?” I exclaimed. “I mean what kind of Ma’ Fa’ timing is that. And on top of it, my manager thinks it’s for the best.”

“Ok.” She replied. “But why did they change the timing?”

“It’s my bloody manager. That dude can’t think straight for sure, and same goes for everybody else in the top management. I mean, most of them are middle aged vegetarians or pot bellied, thick headed, workaholic corporate goons with little or no social life, and have housewives who have been pregnant more times than a bumble bee.”

Paused. “Well, now as I come to think of it, I don’t really blame them.”

She chuckled. “Well, you shouldn’t. You might end up being like one of them.”

“I mean if I stay there for any length of time, I probably will.” I sighed. “And I guess it’s not just the timing that is a problem. It’s like everything else is so laid back over there. The work’s too slow. There is a meeting for just about every goddamn thing that ever walks or crawls upon this earth before anything practical is done.”

“You mean it’s relaxing.” She said.

“Oh yea, it sure is.” I replied. “It’s like once we are on the verge of initiating a new project, I have to prepare a project report, and then have a meeting with the top management, and once the meeting is done, I have to write another report driven by the minutes of that meeting, and then there is another meeting for the report that was written after the last meeting, and then there will be another report driven by the minutes of the last meeting that was held to view the second last report, which in itself was driven by the minutes of the second meeting, which was also driven by the report of the initial meeting.”

She laughed. “Well Lev, I am sure it isn’t as bad as you made it sound like.”

“No, you are right, it’s not bad at all, but something else entirely. Working there is a lot like givin’ birth to a child. No matter how many times you do it, each time it takes the whole of nine months.”

“You always had a way with words.” She replied. “But for all the wrong reasons. Do you know a thing about being happy, Lev, and I really mean a thing?”

I leaned back against the chair and lit myself a cigarette, plain as always and minus the toxic reinforcements of course, and replied. “Well, Ammo. You can sit here in your cozy little home studio and draw all you want, sell your fancy little paintings, and smoke them all into joints, but you would never know how a single day is like in the life of a bee.”

[Do leave a comment, it matters..., And if enjoyed what you just read, do follow the blog, it matters just as much]