I take back all the bad things that I've said or intimated about work. According to a company-wide email, "There is a personnel blender in the kitchen area for staff to use. If you use it please wash it out". The phrase 'personnel blender' doesn't just amuse; it flat-out makes me happy. I murmur the phrase and the endorphins roll gently over my body, as in a tropical tidal pool at twilight. It's approaching the status of a mantra - got work stress? 'Personnel blender'. Your lover turned cold? 'Personnel blender'. Landlordsaystherentislate/ mayhavetolitigate? 'Personnel blender'. And 'kill Bobby McFerrin'. Note: If you're curious about the most effective stress-relieving way to say 'personnel blender,' give me a call. Or pester me for a podcast.
The key is not to think about the phrase too long. Or at all. The implications involving blended personnel form part of a train that boards at Camp Horror Station and terminates at Saddam Grinder Junction. But for some reason, even the image of blended personnel doesn't damp my happy engine. As long as it gets washed out, I'm fine.
There was also an email to announce that the 'plumping company' would be coming by on Thursday. No doubt there's some Ball Park Franks on the loose in the basement. I say unleash the personnel blender on them.