Things I wish for you in '07
(Fortune Magazine) -- May your train always arrive on time in the morning, and may you always be in the proper car to get ahead of the foot traffic on your way to the office. If you do not take a train but drive instead, may the lanes before you be clear and the toll takers speedy and friendly.
May your parking garage never be full, and if you are fortunate enough to have a company parking space, may its positioning improve and your name be stenciled on it.
May you never cut yourself shaving before a big meeting or get a run in your pantyhose on your way up in the elevator.
May your bonus be big and bushy, like a tall spruce in a wild forest. May your eyes grow wide when you behold it, even after they take state, local, and federal taxes and medical insurance fees out of it. If you do not yet receive a bonus, may this year bring you goggles and a flattering swimsuit for your first plunge into that warm, delicious pool.
May the management consultant never stop at your floor.
May your first meeting of every day be one of your choosing. And may no meeting endure longer than your interest in its subject. If that means your longest meeting of the year could be conducted while washing your hands in the bathroom, I most fervently wish that for you.
May you be invited to every boondoggle, retreat, or management conference in which you have a professional or personal interest. May you never be forced to make a presentation or speech unless you wish to, and if you are called upon to mount the dais, may such mounting be brief and sweet.
May you never be forced to eat anything you do not wish to eat by Japanese executives trying to establish dominance over you, or French ones either.
May you never run afoul of the chairman's assistant.
May your first drink of the day be optional, and never at breakfast, unless everybody is having a mimosa or a bloody mary for some reason. And may you never disgrace yourself because you have indulged in an excess of good cheer and believe your Borat impression to be amusing enough for public demonstration.
May you always get your upgrade. May your nuts always be the right temperature. May the airline never be out of your selected meal so you have to eat the pasta with cream sauce.
May your laptop never run out of juice when you don't have the right cord.
May your cellphone never drop the chairman's call.
May you never lose your BlackBerry.
May your plastic be long and wide and handsome and durable, with limits as mysterious and awe-inspiring as the Himalayas.
May you never be audited by anybody, not the IRS nor the internal guys who are paid $80,000 a year to investigate in-room movie and minibar charges.
May you never be on the wrong end of a merger of equals.
May your boss thrive if he is good to you and suffer if not.
May your subordinates not flake out when you need them.
May your work continue to interest you even if it does not interest others.
May your company make its numbers and perhaps 5% more.
May nobody move your cheese unless you want him to, and then only if he moves it to a better location and keeps it nice and fresh.
May your sleep be uninterrupted by fears and anxieties generated by all the crazy stuff that happened that day or by monsters looming on the horizon. There will always be great and terrible events occurring. May your peace of mind be impervious to them.
May you have time to spend with family, friends, potential friends, former enemies, or just by yourself, plugged into YouTube and watching snippets of other people's weirdness.
May your religious holidays, island vacations, and ski weekends, therefore, be preserved throughout the year, no matter how lonely the chairman gets over the Memorial or Labor Day break, or how intrusive and narcissistic the deal-meisters, financial types, and investment bankers who love working weekends might be.
May you be recognized for all the good things you do, unless one of your bosses wants the credit, in which case may you be wise enough to give it to him or her.
May you not be blamed for all the bad things you do, but if you are, may you be wise enough to take that blame without rolling it downhill like a big, deadly boulder.
May you be as happy as you deserve to be. No, check that. Happier.
In short, let's make it a good one, okay?
Stanley Bing's latest book, 100 Bullshit Jobs & And How to Get Them (Collins), is available at finer bookstores everywhere. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.