Pay day

Below are key messages I would like to deliver to management...

That's right, to Mummyfried (the boss of the boss:  my own alter ego)  the big boss upstairs, the vertically challenged bosses I gave birth to, the bosses at the paid place of employment: 


To Mummyfried:  Stop the 60 -70 working week and dreams about really being a tall, blonde, athletically thin, dedicated houseproud yummy mummy and fabulous friend. It's not working. Take a stand. Get to it and sort it out. (Stop being a slave to the system, eating, and start exercising! the rest will follow).

To the ankle-biter bosses: The days of empty threats are over. You fail to pick up, I promise to throw out!  My feet deserve a lego free walking path environment! 

To the boss upstairs. Give me a break. Please? Like, a real one? A lottery ticket, a wealthy uncle who wants to hand it all over, a warm hug, and some hot chocolate? Please? Don't carry me leaving footprints in the sand, if I fail to act on the Mummyfried message re cutting back on the carbs, your back is in serious trouble.  I am thinking of you, and asking you to think of me!

To those that pay me:  New projects will not be completed on time because the six other projects you have allocated to your team have not yet been delivered. Patience my dears.  Wait, watch and listen.  An overloaded, underpaid, disenfranchised team will not deliver.  And that is a guarantee.

And that is it in a nutshell or a few hundred words. So there. I  said it. Now I want to know... who is listening?

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