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.
Another day, another blank stare from the corporate zombies. I try to bring the energy! I say, “Hey guys, let’s crush this!” And they look at me like I just asked them to eat garbage. 虚無の海を泳ぐ。(Swimming in the sea of nothingness.) That’s my work life. A sea of nothingness and bad fluorescent lighting. I’m going to the arcade to destroy some digital aliens. They are the only ones who understand my rage.