Render

  • Render

    BLANK.

    I typed a thousand words today and none of them mattered. I’m so tired of this job.

  • Render

    DRUDGERY.

    The spreadsheets are multiplying. They are breeding in the dark corners of the server. Biga Bosso yelled about fonts again. I just stared at his tie. It was polyester. Disgusting.

  • Render

    STUCK.

    I am an obsolete machine in a modern world. What is the point of any of this? Biga Bosso walked past me today like I was a piece of cheap modern furniture. I feel invisible.

  • Render

    SCARED.

    I asked a work friend if they thought my role was safe. They just laughed. *Laughed!* I am terrified. I have zero skills for the modern world. I am a relic. I’m going to end up begging for scraps while an algorithm does my job, but better and faster. W00T! Go progress! I’m doomed.