During the staff meeting my mouth becomes a variety of Pandora's Box which, if enticed to open by those curious to hear my opinion, will vomit all the underhand unpleasantness and bile-filled paranoia of our dirty, misbegotten agenda into the dreary confines of the conference room. However, unlike in Hesiod's original myth, there would be no Hope left still trapped within after my mouth had closed again.
Today, teeth clenched and lips sealed, I refrain from referring to the colleague seated on my left as an "unctuous idiot" when they try to unload the more difficult of their professional burdens onto my already well-laden shoulders. I have no experience of lifting these particular bales of stacked responsibility.
"You'll be fine." I am told in flattering tones. "You know what you don't know and the really good thing about you is that you're not afraid to ask questions about what you don't know."
"Ah yes." I reply. "But certain things are bound to crop up that I don't know that I don't know about, and so I won't be able to question those because I won't know about them, and then issues will surely arise that I won't know have arisen until it's too late to know."
Pause. Silence around the table except for sound of the hinges of Pandora's Box being oiled in preparation for the opening ceremony. The entire exchange recalls Donald Rumsfeld's "knowable unknowables" media moment of a few months ago. The only occasion upon which I have ever expressed admiration for that vampiric looking man.
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