Corporate Structure

We had our regular daily constant project meeting again today. Like every day. Until we all die.
This meeting was much like the ones from earlier this week in that the Project Manager neglected to show up.
We took a little time out from the meeting to discuss what that Project Manager guy is supposed to do and why we are managing just fine without his input.
This is another case marked by a total lack of job description.
Given that, there is also no list of required qualifications for the position.
I put forth the theory that "Project Manager" is an inherited title, like Baron or Earl or (my favorite) Viscount. If one's parent was a Project Manager, then that career path is open to them. Since no one had any evidence to counter my theory, it was added to the official project document as an "outstanding concern or issue".
The fun part will be finding out if the Project Manager actually ever reads that document.
I'm willing to put money on the fact that he does not, being entirely occupied with increased bandit activity along the trade road and a blight in the barley fields.
For the record, my title (which according to my recently penned job description is "Dark Lord of Policies Both Corporeal and Necromantic") is not inherited.
My daughter will need to find her own route to total global domination. I think she may already be working on that.
On the subject of initiatives with global scale, we are finally annoyingly close to having a finalized closing date on the new World Headquarters of Pr3++yG33kyTh1ng World Wide Amalgamated Disinformation Center and User Disposal Crawlspace, LLC.
This process has been slowed by repeated questions like "Wait, you already own a house?" and "What do you mean you already own a house out of state?" and "What do you mean on this form where you refer to the house as a 'spare house' on line J and then 'world headquarters of a bunch of scribbles' on line N?"
Further delays included requests for documents proving we owed less on a car than our out-dated credit report showed like "Can you show us that you paid the note last week even though we have no record of your having ever, ever been late?"
There were also delays which could be termed (by harsher critics) as self-inflicted. These always arrived in the form of questions such as, "Does the house already have a moat or do you want to have one rolled into the loan amount?" and "Have you really found an insurance policy which covers water damage related to self-constructed arrow slits?" and the (I'm sure more typical) "What? Are you drunk?"
I've been told that this is all just part of the home buying process. Especially the heavy drinking.
The remaining work is all in scheduling the move from Houston to here, which must begin on a specific date but will not be complete for "up to a week", leaving us with no way to know if there will be any place to put our stuff when it arrives.
It all may seem totally illogical and impossible to manage with any sense of clarity but I assure you it is, in fact, totally illogical and impossible to manage with any sense of clarity.
I'm not sure how the rest of the world deals with uncertainty, but I almost always mitigate it through chemical means. Or violence. Or sometimes knitting.
Anyone need a doily? Or, like, eight or nine doilies?
In the interest of disclosure, I had a single beer last night and woke up with a nasty headache this morning which directly resulted in my volunteering to take charge of a project without first asking what the project entailed or negotiating to be paid in unicorns. I think I've learned my lesson.
Maybe.