by Rochelle Elana Fisher
To: Dorothy.Gale@Kansas.comFrom: HR@Kansas.comSubject: Surrender, Dorothy
We have received your request to continue working remotely from OZ indefinitely. After reviewing with your manager, Almira Gulch, this accommodation cannot be granted just because. Beginning September, we expect all personnel to move to a regular in-person schedule in your assigned Kansas location. Now that we are able to better control the twisters, it’s time to snap back into reality. Please plan accordingly.
We understand the allure of wanting to stay in a world of color vs returning to a land of black and white that might put you in the path of danger. However, we want you to know that we have instituted some very basic security measures to prevent the additional brewing of these storms. We also strongly urged employees to protect themselves with a free and widely available anti-twister shield. Whether they do or not, doesn’t matter to us. It only matters that you show up in-person ASAP. Or we’ll fix you, you’ll see.
Yes, it is true, my pretty, that you have been an all-around asset–you have proven yourself to be a great leader in liquidating our competition, the Wicked Witch of the West. You’ve helped the Tin Man and the Scarecrow and the Lion. But you are turning into a little spoiled brat, asking for this special treatment. If we accommodate you then the whole of Kansas will want to work from Oz and that’s not happening. We can’t be paying you real-world Kansas money when you continue to exist somewhere over the rainbow.
You’ve gotten too comfortable in Oz. You enjoy midday chats with your friends. You go on too many errands to Emerald City looking for the Wizard. You often disappear for hours and don’t answer calls. But later we discover you were out skipping on some yellow brick road or getting high on poppies.
Also, how dare you tend to the Munchkins during the day! Yes they are little and need help with their Guilds. But doesn’t good Glinda tend to their needs? The nerve of you to try to balance these responsibilities on the clock. From 9-5, and sometimes way into the night, you answer to us. Not to anyone else. Got it?
Stop whiling away the hours. We’re sick of it. And we’re sick of you and your little dog distracting you too. He ought to be destroyed.
There’s no place like the physical office where you can meet face to face with your work family– even though they pretend you don’t exist when you try to talk to them during the day. Plus, Almira Glutch wants to keep a close watch on you. She reported that you were not taking her seriously through the crystal ball zooms. We have marked that up in your permanent record book.
Don’t resist us. Almira runs this place and she can do whatever she wants. Even set you on fire if you do the wrong thing. You’ll see. She’ll deal with you like you deserve.
Woe to you if you defy us. We’ll send our flying monkey army to escort you back here, my dear–like it or not, to finish you. Because the Twister-year was not about redefining ourselves. It was about survival. And now that we are on the other side, things are going to go back to how they were. Oz will be a distant memory. So put on your ruby red work pumps and say there’s no place like headquarters. Now.
Before we rethink your position here within Kansas and banish you to your beloved Oz. Indefinitely, without benefits.
Eh-he-he-he. Eh-he-he-he. Eh-he-he-he. Eh-he-he-he. Eh-he-he-he. Eh-he-he-he. Eh-he-he-he. Eh-he-he-he.