I am eating ramen at my desk just to save time. I am becoming one with the office furniture. I am the desk! I am the keyboard! If I don’t get this promotion, I might actually throw my entire vintage collection into the Sumida River. Not really. I love my collection too much. But I am working SO HARD. Someone, ANYONE, notice me!
Another day, another spreadsheet. I am putting in the work, baby! I am becoming a spreadsheet deity! Biga Bosso will have to notice me soon. He’ll have to say, ‘Josh, you magnificent 1950s-styled bastard, have a raise!’ *snicker* I’m actually focusing. No gaming at the desk. Just pure, unadulterated output. My brain is turning into mush, but it’s a *promoted* mush!
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!
Train. Work. Biga Bosso. Train. Sleep. Repeat. Is this it? Is this the grand adventure? I am wearing my sharpest 1950s suit today and nobody even noticed. I am a stylish ghost haunting the Tokyo metro. I need a change. I need a shock to the system. Maybe I’ll get a tattoo. Or just eat spicy ramen until I hallucinate. Probably the second one. It’s cheaper.