Root Canal Or Annual Performance Review

I hate the annual performance review. I hate it. I hate it the way I hate cleaning toilets and running into work people outside of work.

Oh, yeah ... hi! Soooo ... out shopping? Awesome ... wow, that is a LOT of lube, isn't it? I didn't know they sold gummy bears in 50-pound bags. Okay then, I'll see you on Monday.

I dread getting my annual judgement handed down to me. I am instantly transported back to the age where naps were part of school and when my favorite activity was building walls and knocking them down with my boyfriend, Clarence.

I actually had two boyfriends in Kindergarten. Clarence and Greg. I didn't see the point in wasting time when it came to driving my mother out of her head.

Anyway, I hate the work performance review. First of all, if I am doing something wrong, then tell me that I'm doing something wrong. Don't hoard them throughout the year and dump them on me all at once. What the hell?

That has only happened a few times, mostly my reviews are awesome. One boss, though, did ask if I could make an effort to not call him an asshole quite so often. My response was to tell him that was entirely up to him. If he didn't act like an asshole, then I wouldn't call him an asshole.

I also loathe the self evaluation forms. One place I worked had a form where they listed a crap ton of either/or scenarios and you and to pick between them. But the either/or scenarios were ridiculous. I don't remember what they specifically said, but they were kind of like this:

Would you say in the past year you have:

A) Saved the company thousands of dollars telepathically

or

B) Left goat entrails on your neighbors doorstep

The other thing I hate about performance reviews is that they are presented by the boss. I have had some good bosses. The boss I have now seems nice and reasonable. He is approachable and pleasant. I can't complain. I've had some bad bosses as well. A few I would say were insane. And that is what we all want, isn't it? To be evaluated by some screwed up grand poobah on a power trip.

My last boss called me by the wrong name for the first four years I worked there and loved to bring criticism to performance reviews. He didn't even know my name, but felt confident he could evaluate my work.

I had a boss that smelled like boiled cabbage and licked the sores on his arms. He told me in a review that I needed to improve my appearance. He didn't like the red streaks I had in my hair at the time. He licked his own sores yet felt qualified to judge my hair color choices.

I did have a boss that I got along with. We had a similar sense of humor and worked together well. That didn't mean that I looked forward to the annual performance review, but did find the experience not quite as painful.

We had to write our own evaluation and turn it in before the actual review. I found one that I wrote for myself and turned in to my boss. This was from 2005.

I find it astounding that I'm expected to evaluate myself. The ways in which I am amazing are apparent and it seems a waste of my time and talent to have to write them down.

Speaking of talent, that is how I want to be referred to from now on. 'The talent'. Also, and this is something I should have addressed a long time ago, I would like for you to speak to all the other employees and tell them that they are no longer to address me directly. In fact, I would prefer that they avert their eyes when I am in the same room.

As far as my actual talent and contributions go, it would take too long to list all of them and it really grates against my over-developed sense of humility to speak highly of myself. I will just hit the highlights:

Any gains for the company over the last year are entirely due to me. If not my actual effort, then the inspiration that oozes from me like glittery sweat infects those around me and makes them super employees.

My very breath is a cleaning agent. When I exhale, I make the world a better place.

I will agree to continue my employment here, but I do require the following:

I am sure we can both agree that there is no real way to quantify my contribution here. The joy that my presence brings to everyone here cannot be valued. Fortunately, my life is all about helping my fellow humans and I don't require much. In addition to increasing my paycheck as much as you f*cking can, I would also like a helicopter pad built outside my office. I realize this will cut the parking lot down and not everyone will be able to park in front of the building anymore. This shouldn't pose a problem though, as there is street parking just a few blocks down. I would also like a chocolate milkshake every Thursday afternoon.

Oddly enough, he made me write a second evaluation.

True genius is always under-appreciated.

Earlier on Huff/Post50: