There are so few pleasures to be gleaned from working. Even the occasional presence of money in one’s bank account simply doesn’t feel like enough to compensate for the wearing and tearing of the mind. So how should one extract enjoyment from their day-to-day in the workplace? Well, quite simply, by tarnishing the reputation of others.
Like Joan Crawford, Petty Betty (or would it be Bette, in this case?) extraordinaire, there’s sometimes no greater jolly to be had than smearing a nemesis–or whatever nemesis you can fabricate out of the zombie slush pile at the workplace. Making up some excuse about being able to work at your optimum capacity because of their body odor, etc. It really can be so satisfying to simply embrace one’s inner sadist in order to offset the masochism of agreeing to work in a cube in the first place.