Cue Contempt

Big Brother Watching (in the guise of a helm from an Arthurian suit of armor) has been quite the imposing figure. I’d hate to admit that the upper echelon’s scheme for increasing productivity might actually be working. We’re early. That’s new. It has managed to catch quite a few off guard, and me, ever vigilant and more paranoid than usual.

Despite the skunkwork’s façade of sprawling harvest, all is not so well at the HQ. Morale is low among the troops and quite a few are keen on other forms of franchising. Jobstreet, apparently, has been harboring some busy bees, our busy bees.

Which led me to think about greener pastures, or in this case, sweeter hives. Drops of honey have been promised, but like previous pinches of hope nearly a year ago, nothing has materialized.

But life in this hive has been sweet as it is (pun intended). As the honey, the transport service, and (even if it's just within our circle) the prestige, have always satisfied the palette. Life inside the hive, however, is more like an ant colony, slave to the pecking order, with big brother ever watchful.

What once seemed like a picturesque hovel is slowly turning into a hideous slice of reality. All the better, perhaps, to break me into the real world. After the initial shock, I’ve slowly come to embrace it. Some of its bad habits are likely seeping in, unconsciously.

Familiarity breeds contempt, as my good friend once said. And perhaps it’s the fact that I’ve officially settled in that’s spawned the worrisome thoughts.

Time will tell, as they say. A tempest is at the horizon. Whether its torrents will give rise to spring and sweeter nectar to come, or dislodge the hive from its ivory err… branch (?)... remains to be seen.

And I’ve overextended another metaphor. Some things never change. Cue contempt.