Dilmom: How is work Dilbert?
Dilbert: Well, mom...I'm like a fly stuck in a thick tar of despair.
Incompetence hangs in the air like the cold stench of death.
I'm drowning, and monkeys dressed as lifeguards are throwing me anvils. My job has convinced me that life is a stale joke with no punch line. I long for the comfort of the grave.
Dilmom: Next time just say 'it's fine.
Dilbert: I enjoy our talks.
Dilmom: It's fine.
Dilbert: Here's my daily project status report.
Morale is low. There is talk of mutiny. we dream of quitting and becoming lifeguards on "Baywatch" Death to the pointy haired one.
The Boss: Holy Cow! "Baywatch' is hiring??!