Dilbert goes to college

In one of the more Dilbertesque moments in my recent memory, I was asked today during a meeting by a well-meaning but clueless colleague (in booming, corporate voice):

"What is the scope and timeline for your project?"

To which I responded in the patented Shorttina monotone:

"Very, very big and very, very long."

My boss, who is so good to me, must have sensed that I was on the cusp of being on the verge of tears because he ran with the weak joke and added,

"And it's a lot of work and more expensive than you want to know."

It wouldn't be so bad. The estimated deadline is about five months away, but the brunt of work can't be done, really, until the last couple of months. Really, it's all too frightening right now to consider in great detail. It turns out that moving a web site is a lot of work. Who would have guessed?

But the meeting was redeemed by a discussion of unusual bequests by college benefactors. I suggested I might leave the college my rock collection, to augment a former administrator's honorary rock garden. Someone else said he'd like to leave the college millions, restricted for the purchase of monkey grass.