You understand the rationalization of an acronym comprised of acronyms.
You can name the project leader of more than 10 projects including your own, but still can’t explain in the simplest terms what they do.
You know that the location of a meeting is directly related to its importance:
(1) A meeting at Fort Hood requires a subordinate or a contractor.
(2) The same meeting at Lake Tahoe requires your personal attention.
You work for an acronym, on an acronym, and your job title is an acronym.
You’ve sat at the same desk for 3 years, done the same thing for 3 years, but have had 3 different business cards.
The process becomes more important than the product.
You don’t see anything wrong with attending a meeting on a subject you know nothing about.
You feel you contributed to the meeting just by being there.
You realize that a paperless office is impossible. Actually, you believe it is possible, just not in your office.
You keep documents/manuals on projects that have been long since canceled.
You stop raising issues/problems because you know you will be the one answering them.
You fly across the country to attend a conference with 100+ people to discuss the fact that the project does not have enough money.
You’ve sat at the same desk for 4 years and worked for three different agencies.
Your name plate is attached with Velcro.
Your resume is on a diskette in your pocket.
The office symbol on your badge is applied with tape.
When someone asks about what you do for a living, you lie.
You get really excited about a 2% pay raise.
Your biggest loss from a system crash is that you loose your best jokes.
Your supervisor doesn’t have the ability to do your job.
You sit in a cubicle smaller than your bedroom closet.
You think lunch is just a meeting to which you drive.
It’s dark when you drive to and from work.
Fun is when issues are assigned to someone else.
Communication is something your group is having problems with.
You see a good looking person and know it is a visitor.
Free food left over from meetings is your main staple.
Weekends are those days your spouse makes you stay home.
Being sick is defined as can’t walk or you’re in the hospital.
Art involves a white board.
You’re already late on the assignment you just got.
You work 200 hours for the $100 performance check and jubilantly say, “Oh wow, thanks!”
Dilbert cartoons hang outside every cube.
Your boss’ favorite lines are “when you get a few minutes,” “in your spare time,” “when you’re freed up,” and “I have an opportunity for you.”
Vacation is something you roll over to next year.
Your relatives and family describe your job as “works with computers.”
Change is the norm.
Nepotism is encouraged.
The only reason you recognize your kids is because their pictures hang in your cube.
You only have makeup for fluorescent lighting.
You can name more people that used to work with you than people who do.