which came first?

the baby or the bathwater?


I propose that this picture is infact an all[egg]orical 'map' of my current workplace situation. I may infact have to use it when seeking my next job, in lieu of a reference from my boss.

I propose the following.
The pale, plucked chicken represents the Howard Government's new Work Choices legislation.
The stainless steel bowl represents the workplace in which I spend much of my time (and energy).
The water represents me.
And the egg, would you believe, represents my boss.

I am contained within the bowl of my job. I am fluid, and flexible, and need a vessel, lest I spill and evaporate into the ether. So, bowl it is.
Suddenly I look up from the watery corner of the bowl (that I use as a desk) to see the butt of a gigantic obscene plucked dead chicken relaxing in comfort and style inside my bowl, ready for stocktake. It's dead so it doesn't say anything, but it's laced with poison so it doesn't actually matter. In a short time I will become a ebola ridden stagnant puddle.

Of course, the moral of the story is that now that this rank dead bird is among us, one by one we are all evaporating.

So what of the egg? Well let's not forget that nobody is really sure which came first.
There was always an egg in the bowl with me. But only since the slimy bald chicken slipped in beside me did I realise that not all eggs are white and yolk. This egg, I now realise, is housing a parasite.

The bad egg will soon find itself in a whole world of Humpty soon, when it is left holding the bathwater, having thrown the baby, and the chicken, and the egg, out the window.