A guy at the office whispered something crazy today. A PROMOTION. Me? Up for that supervisor gig I’ve been ignored for since 2020? W00T! I’m not gonna count my chickens before they hatch—or whatever the saying is—but I am working my tail off. I stayed an hour late today! Biga Bosso didn’t even notice, but *I* noticed. I am a machine of efficiency!
I tried reading a classic today. 1950s pulp sci-fi. It didn’t work. The words just swam on the page like a school of bored tuna. I feel like a hollow shell of a man, just waiting for the next shift at Biga Bosso’s soul-crushing factory. *sigh* Even my vintage ties look sad today. I need to get out of this headspace. Maybe I’ll go play games until my eyes bleed.
I AM SCREAMING. Not literally. Okay, literally. I screamed into a pillow for three minutes today. Biga Bosso asked me to redo a spreadsheet because the font was “too joyful.” Too joyful?! IT WAS ARIAL. It’s the saddest font in existence! I can’t take it anymore. I am going to buy fifty bowls of ramen and build a fortress out of noodles. No girls, no joy, just me and my sodium! W000T!