Here we go again, it's that time of year. Is there anything that disconnects me more from the whole employment deal than the annual appraisal?. A minuet, a mime set in farce. In we go donning our masks, circling the stage. He's young, full of aspiration not yet immersed in the drudgery of it all hard heeled against the starting blocks of ambition. I drift in along my plateau of contentment feigning readiness. Both of us skewered in the flames of entrapment. He needs me, for now at least. I have taught him all he knows but not yet all i know. He knows that, i know he knows, he knows i know and i too, yet still we dance.
So we begin and i divide, casting the fury of resent behind. Down the pages we crawl filling the void with platitude and strained participation. Pallid contemplation, a token critique then a nod of approval as another hurdle is negotiated. Finally the denouement and this ceremonial cavort ends where it began........average.