No, really. I'm working.

Spent today in an all-day meeting talking about the company I work for and how we can improve it. I signed up for it after my co-worker Heather went through it weeks ago. She raved about the gig, thinking that she actually got through to a manager about how shitty some staffers are treated and how we are completely missing a major demographic. I had no idea how I’d be talking in front of strangers, but at least I'd get a day out of the cubicle.

The biggest fear I had going into it was that this whole exercise was going to be one of those hopelessly fatal circle jerks corporations get themselves into where they act employees to think outside the box, create new paradigms and all that bullshit business yoga zillions of us had to do in the dotcom era instead of doing our jobs (which might have spared some of us the ax). These thinking sessions also mark the opening notes of a company's death spiral, a time when the brain trust behind the business admit, in the most articulate way possible, that they have no idea how to run the office, so let's open the floor to suggestions. Imagine if the president walked by the White House gardener and said, "That North Korea, huh? So, what would you do?"

The second-biggest worry I had was that all the free talk and constructive exchange would rev us all up and turn us idea monkeys out into the workplace charged up for change, only to see nothing happen, returning to our jobs and the same old crap, dying from the inside like ecstasy users suffering the Tuesday morning blues. Coming from the high-tech sector, I've smelled plenty of good ideas brought up in brainstorming session rotting on the vine because the bosses betrayed the idea of "imagine anything" that we were chartered with. If they won't play along, why should we hope for change?

Anyway, this morning, myself and three other volunteers were sequestered in a room with a magnificent view of Elliott Bay and walls full of ideas gleaned from previous get-togethers with staff. Over time, we would see our own idea spring, like Athena from the head of Zeus, onto a window or nearby wall...proof our words had weight, at least in this room.

First, we had to sign a nondisclosure agreement because we were getting some sensitive survey data that, for the life of me, I can't remember, so it's not like I'm going to be a major threat now. All I remember from the oodles of data is that our rivals are skunking us and a lot of people in Seattle watch The Discovery Channel and The History Channel.

Then, we got lunch.

After lunch, we talked about what we would like to have our company do to reach our audience better. We talked about changing the name of the company since our customers don't recognize the name anyway. I brought up using our print product as a daily primer and our Web site as more of an in-depth resource, akin to BBC News' online venue. Also, hire some more support staff. We lose one guy in the mailroom and everything goes downhill.

Then, feeling braver, we talked about our company's culture, including how social retarded the managers treat those in the lesser ranks. It's at a time like this you want to cry out for help, but not sound like you're whining. So, I measured my comments and said I was told there was no way I was getting a promotion to a copy editor until either a) someone died or b) it was five years later. I talked about how there's no feeling of investment by the company in you, and how everyone is regimented into certain groups (designers, editors, managers) and you never, ever can cross those lines. I suggested we create internal internships were you could switch to a new editorial wing or try design for three months, something to create a more diverse workforce that doesn't get bored easily. I also suggested the company reimburse anyone willing to take classes outside of work to learn a new language or any other body of knowledge useful to the company. We argued that the company, theoretically, wouldn't want to pay you for developing a skill set that you could take elsewhere in six months, which saying something very cynical about corporate culture. It expects you to be trained, but hen-pecked enough so you stay in one place forever and are expected to like it.

One of the axioms were we told today was that people in Seattle are loyal to their careers and not the company. Frankly, I can't think of more of a nightmare for businesses than workers looking to find greener pastures all the time. Let the worker grow and develop unknown skills. Maybe you'll unearth a new editor or artist, but at the very least you have an engaged mind at work, trying new things and seeing how different parts of the company are run.

Six hours later and released from service, we volunteers were told we brought up great ideas (you've been a beautiful audience, really…give yourselves a hand) and to continue the process by sending ideas to a certain e-mail account. The whole reimagination project is supposed to go on for another nine months, and we'll get the chance to bitch and brainstorm again somewhere on the calendar. Somehow, it makes the idea of getting up and going to work much better, much more freeing that someone, somewhere listened in a corporate climate which more resembles the Indian caste system than a meritocracy. We’ll see.