The one thing I miss since I got out of the ‘corporate’ work environment is the deluge of management phrases. Amusing things, those. Delightfully revelatory strings like ‘view from 30,000 feet above’. Lack of oxygen up there surely is an explanation for otherwise inexplicable decisions. My current (heard it from someone who’s still there), maybe even all-time, favourite – ‘carry your own weather’. Ah! that explains the heavy, dark clouds that hover above me. No silver trimmings. The only silver there is on streaks of lightning. God, I feel like Indra, like Thor. But where then is my Vajra, my faithful Mjölnir? Damn, looks like someone stole my thunder.