El Jefe is at work, tending to his day job. During these periods of tedium, while El Jefe mans his desk, advancing civilization and the glory of the nation; not to mention ensuring himself undying honor and fame by drafting letters, briefs and other screeds for litigious employees, modifying employee handbooks and similar important functions, El Jefe sometimes wonders "Why ?" You know, meaning of life, and all that sort of thing.
My mind strays to similar channels, when, while slaving away, the phone chirps at me, and the secretary outside asks "are we talking to family today ?" El Jefe has a minor crisis working involving certain financial issues of other family members. So, very reluctantly, I have to say "yeah, put the call through" rolling the eyes momentarily and thinking how Unfair it all is.
When I finally escape from the call, I again turn my eyes to Heaven and think "Why ?" Why doesn't the lovely and comely secretary buzz-in with a call, but this time say "El Jefe, El Jefe, it's Jenny McCarthy and she wants your body, like now ! She's ordered some Mojitos, she's sending the Gulfstream and is waiting for you on the beach or in her private boudoir at [fill in fantasy destination here] !"
Just a random thought. Okay, back to work. Floggings will continue till morale improves.