(if:visits is 1)[(set: $status to (a: "Blurred Vision", "Tinnitus", "Backache", "Headache", "Crushing Emptyness"))
(set: $pockets to (a: ))]
You find yourself sitting at a desk, head lowered, eyes closed, index and middle fingers pressing against your temples. (if:$status contains "Tinnitus")[A constant, screeching ringing fills your mind, but you think you can make out a voice underneath the cacophany.](else:)[You hear Chad's voice drawl on behind you.] (if:$status contains "Backache")[There is an ache in the spot between your shoulders and neck.]
You've been at this desk thousands of times before, sometimes for periods of time that are longer than you'd care to admit.
You feel confused, but you have this nagging feeling that you need to do something. (if:$status contains "Headache")[You attempt to open your eyes to find out what, but a flourescent light burns your retinas. All you can manage is a weak squint with your hands shading your brow.] (if:$status contains "Blurred Vision")[Shapes and colors come in hazy and dull.]
On your [[desk]], you can make out (if:$pockets does not contain "keys" or $pockets does not contain "glasses")[a jumble of metallic objects and glass next to ](if:$pockets does not contain "coffee mug")[a cylinder and ]a glossy black rectangle. You are sure your [[monitor]] is to your left, but you can't quite remember what's on it. Chad has burst into your team room enough times for you to know that the door to the sales hallway is a few feet [[behind]] you. A reflux inducing scent reminds you that the team coffee and [[snack table]] is to your right. Your feet touch your [[filing cabinet]], tucked away neatly below your standing desk.
Your monitor glows omniously in front of you. On it is a pastiche of black and green text, skeumorphic post-it notes and bulletin boards, and several chat windows. The combined interfaces look somewhat like the machines from "The Matrix" and the computers from "Wargames" built a frankenstein monster - one that constantly crapped out small red bubbles from every edge of the screen.
(if:$status contains "Blurred Vision" or $status contains "Tinnitus" or $status contains "Backache" or $status contains "Headache")[You contemplate if the thing you needed to do is somewhere inside of the screen, but can't bring yourself to investigate. There are too many needles in your being to try and force yourself through another dredge of emails, hacky-feature writing, or message responses. You turn back to the [[right->Sitting]] and put your head back in your hands.](else:)[This is it - you've finally gotten yourself in a place to work! This is how you make the money, baby - You're a little loose, your head isn't exploding, you can kind of move your back, and you're jacked up on so much caffeine that your shaking causes extra key presses. That's what we call productivity!
The time slips away. Emails zip back and forth. Scope creep? You'll get it eventually. New feature that messes up your current stack? You'll hack and slash through it. Keep burning and noodling - you've got so much talent and momentum. You remember how hard it was to get this job. The fear of ending up unemployed. But you got it, and you got it all! The prestige, the memorization, the endless behaviorals - you proved that you are the absolute best. Your boss sends you a chance to present a new demo... Why not! It's just a little bit more, and if they like it, maybe I'll get a bump!
You start to feel groggy; your head sinks. The terminal boxes seem to make less and less sense. This problem seemed so easy an hour ago, what has happened to you? Don't you know the team is waiting on you? You've got a new presentation to work on too, have you gotten to that yet? More red bubbles are popping up - you know Jay gets pissed when their directs don't respond within the hour.
Your spine stiffens. Your head splits. You can't stand focusing on the screen anymore; you put your glasses down next to the keyboard.
A deafining squeel fills your eardrums. You turn to your [[right->Sitting]], throw your glasses down near your keyboard, and put your head back down in your hands. (set: $status to $status + (a: "Blurred Vision", "Headache", "Backache", "Tinnitus"))(set: $pockets to $pockets - (a:"glasses"))](if:$status contains "Blurred Vision" or $status contains "Tinnitus" or $status contains "Backache" or $status contains "Headache")[You think about turning around to face the drawling voice, which you are fairly certain is a sales manager informing you of some invented crisis. The notion of facing them makes your stomach flip, and you decide you better straighten out your mind before you face them. You doubt they'll leave the room while you do so. You keep on cradling your [[head->Sitting]].]
(else:)[Chad is trying to tell some sort of joke behind you. You know that he'll just keep swinging by to ask for favors and features, despite the fact that the company is supposed to have a pipeline for those sorts of requests. You know, to protect the engineers and designers or something. You check in with yourself, and aside from that nagging feeling of crushing emptyness, feel like you're finally alright enough to get this over with.
[["...And over here, we have a spare Gus. Get it? Asparagus!"->Chad1]]]The snack table is always stocked - endless carbs and assorted fruits for consumption. Ironically, a lot of the snacks tend to go bad or expire - you get a little tired of the processed meal-replacement bars after a while, and who wants a banana everyday when the cafeteria serves ice cream?
The real saving grace of the table was its automated barista - a tall monolithic silver box containing all sorts of hidden magical beans and milks. You'd throw your mug underneath it, hit some buttons, and get some stale, hyper-caffinated juice that would really get you going.
(if:$status contains "Tinnitus" or $status contains "Backache" or $status contains "Blurred Vision")[You think about getting a coffee to relieve your headache, but you are pretty sure that your mix of ailments combined with the acidic smell and a turn to the right would result in some biological calamity. You think you better go take care of some of your [[symptoms->Sitting]] before getting coffee. (if:$pockets does not contain "coffee mug")[Anyways, what would you even put the coffee in?]
](else:)[You decide it's time to take care of your headache with a piping hot cup of Joe. (if:$pockets does not contain "coffee mug")[Unfortunately, you realize too late you need to find something to put Joe in. You return to your [[desk]]](else:)[You take your hilarious, absolutely hysterical coffee mug and shove it under the machine's nozzle. Sure, it has options for capuchino, but you much prefer straight shots of espresso, stacked one after the other. You tell others that it tastes better that way, that it was the way it was meant to be enjoyed, by the Italians or something, but you know that there isn't real base in your claims. You say it to put on an air of resilience. In actuality, it gives you pretty bad heartburn and tastes like burnt sand. You've had to sprint to the restroom on more than one occasion after finishing a cup. Regardless, after a few sips, you feel your headache melt away. You may even be able to withstand looking at your screen now. You [[sit back down->Sitting]].(set: $status to $status - (a: "Headache"))]]You lean forward, hoping to (if:$status contains "Backache")[simultaneously alleviate your backache and ]understand what is actually on your desk.
The black rectangle reveals itself to be a heavily worn rubber-dome keyboard. It is adorned with cheap ABS keycaps that have been polished to a mirror-gleam from grease and endless use. A logo on the upper right-hand side of the keyboard has been comically altered to read "HELL" instead of the legitimate manufacturer. The home-row of keys have had their legends completely rubbed off - likely because when you are bored, you nervously shift your fingers back and forth to feel how smooth the plastic has become over the years.
(if: $pockets does not contain "coffee mug") [ The cylinder sharpens and curves to reveal a [[coffee mug]], emblazoned with a comic displaying a disenchanted office worker. ]
(if: $pockets does not contain "keys" and $pockets does not contain "glasses") [The mess of metal and glass reveal themselves to actually be two separate objects. A set of [[keys]] sit directly next to a folded pair of wire-frame [[glasses]].
](else-if: $pockets does not contain "keys" and $pockets contains "glasses") [There remains a set of [[keys]] on the desk.
](else-if: $pockets contains "keys" and $pockets does not contain "glasses") [There remains a pair of [[glasses]] on the desk.]
(if: $status contains "Backache") [The increased caving of your spine did not, in fact, alleviate your backache. You think maybe returning to your previous [[position->Sitting]] may help.](if:$pockets does not contain "keys")[You reach down and try and shake the filing cabinet open, but it rejects your advance. You definitely didn't want any of your coworkers poking around in there. You should [[look->Sitting]] for your keys.
](else-if:$pockets contains "keys")[You turn the "MASTER" key in the lock and pull the cabinet open.
Inside are two bottles: one opaque and made out of a smooth, white plastic; the other a tall glass bottle with a brown liquid inside. The [[plastic bottle]] and [[glass bottle]] look up at you with expectation.
You know you can't live off these things forever, but they get you through tough deadlines that demand more than you can give. You contemplate if [[today->Sitting]] is the day you live with your pain, or if you need to treat yourself just a bit longer. After all, if you don't do that thing you can't quite remember, how do you get paid?] The office worker is talking to a giant slug. The slug is interviewing for a job, but apparently has the unfortunate reputation of being a giant slug. The job is critical to the company, and the success of the interviewee will determine if the entire team succeeds. The worker decides to give the job to them anyways, saying they have confidence in them and slapping a piece of paper over their face. It gets you every time.
Regardless of whether you are ready for caffeine or not, you absentmindedly grab your coffee mug. You keep looking at your [[desk]].
(set: $pockets to $pockets + (a:"coffee mug"))The keychain is smaller than most you've seen growing up - devoid of tchotchkes or car keys. You remember your mom's infamously jingly keychain - 2 big car keys, a house key, a mail key, trinkets from Disneyland... You could find her in a supermarket just by listening hard enough.
You don't need a car as you live extremely close to work, and occasionally sleep at the office when deadlines are tight. There is a small security fob, an old-timey brass apartment key, and a key with a plastic cover that reads "MASTER" below the keyring-opening.
(if: $pockets does not contain "keys") [You ponder if you should grab the [[keys->take keys]] or look at other things on your [[desk]].
] (else:) [You think you should look at other things on your [[desk]].]The glasses frames look intact, but the lenses have a crystalline pattern of surface scratches from constantly being rubbed on a soft-cotton t-shirt. They are slightly out of prescription, as you forgot to use your FSA last year to get new lenses. They get the job done though, and probably could serve to alleviate some of your occular pain.
Still, you pause, and deliberate over whether you should bother to [[don the glasses->take glasses]] or keep looking at your [[desk]].(set: $pockets to $pockets + (a: "keys"))
You grab the keys, threading the keyring around your right thumb. You look back to the rest of your [[desk]].You slide the glasses over the bridge of your nose, feeling some relief as your vision sharpens just enough to start making things out beyond a 16 inch perimeter.
You think that next time you go to the optometrist, you definitely need to ask about bifocals. All this computer time has made it uncomfortable to focus on anything too close to your face.
You return to staring at your [[desk]].
(set: $pockets to $pockets + (a: "glasses"))
(set: $status to $status - (a: "Blurred Vision"))You look at the plastic bottle: a 500 count of Ibuprofen extra-strength, generic brand, half-empty. You buy in bulk and off-brand to save a few bucks - Advil is for the sales team and middle-managers: you know, the real money around here.
(if:$status contains "Backache")[You contemplate if [[swallowing]] a handful could help some of your ailments. You also contemplate [[not->filing cabinet]], as you've had this strange pain on your left side recently.](else:)[You are fairly certain more ibuprofen won't help you anymore, and could potentially vaporize whatever is left of your liver. You [[sit->Sitting]] back up.]Ah yes, a bottle of the good stuff. This bourbon is one of a rotation that you go through; you enthusiastically share with managers over late-night strategy meetings your refined tastes in Kentucky-sourced liquor. In reality, you think it all tastes relatively the same, but you do acknowledge the pricier stuff tends to leave you with less regret.
Most of the time it's for happy hours and late nights, but it occasionally makes its way into Irish Coffees - and as an emergency relief elixir. (if:$status contains "Tinnitus") [You don't know what time it is quite yet, so you contemplate if you should [[take a swig]] or go back to staring at your [[desk->Sitting]]. ](else:) [You already feel a little loose, and you don't want to risk getting caught being belligerent. That happened to Aaron at the Holiday party, and you hear that they're now trying to make money through NFT pyramid schemes. You decide to [[sit->Sitting]] back up.]You dry-fire an indeterminate amount of ibuprofen. You pride yourself on your ability to get the capsules down regardless of how dry your mouth is; though you haven't boasted publically about it yet. Maybe after a few drinks.
As it goes down, you feel you back loosen. You know logically that there is no way that the medicine could have operated so quickly; but something about the ritual gives you relief anyways. You put the bottle back in the drawer.
You return to looking at your [[filing cabinet]].
(set: $status to $status - (a: "Backache"))You lean close to the cabinet, head almost entirely in it, and gulp a swig. You know it was pretty conspicuous, but you know almost every other team member around you has a bottle of their own. In fact, you're not sure who on the floor doesn't have something hidden in their filing cabinet.
Weirdly enough, the ringing in your ears quiets to a dull roar. You push off the uncomfortable thought that you may be dependent on the stuff. You decide you should probably [[sit back up->Sitting]] before people realize you've had your head under your desk for too long. You place the bottle back in the drawer and lock it.
(set: $status to $status - (a: "Tinnitus"))He grabs you on the shoulder as he finishes his punchline, his face scrunched and red from the self-inflicted laughter.
You look Chad up and down. He's dressed much nicer than everyone else in the room, wearing a flashy watch and cheap shoes. He is excessively animated - which helps in his client facing roles. We are told that Chad and his collective teams give us our paychecks - they sell, sell, sell. Without their sales, we simply couldn't survive. You realize you've been zoned out while he's launched into why he's been waiting behind your chair for who knows how long.
"...So anyways, if we get this client, the 'commish' will be so sweet, and we'll all max our OKRs, it'll be so frickin' sweet!"
You don't get commisions on sales.
"I know it's a bit unreasonable, and I thought I spied it on the roadmap, so I said we had blockchain compatibility. They went nuts!"
Your company does not, in fact, have anything remotely related to the blockchain in its product offering.
You check in to see if that bit had made it into the RFP.
"Hell yeah! They even doubled their price! You see what I mean about the 'commish' bro!"
Making it into the proposal meant that we were now on the hook for delivery. Having one of the few remaining teams responsive to sales, Chad beelined to us to get it on our roadmap. Laura, your lead backend engineer, lets out a loud explitive and pounds their keyboard before storming out of the room. Hopefully Chad was graceful enough to at least buy us some [[time->chad2]].He did not.
"So here's the rub - this client is so big that the 'ole boss Jimmy will come down on everyone HARD if the product isn't delivered. We've got about 4 weeks before our first demo - can you get us something in production by then?"
It wasn't just that the feature didn't make sense or work with our current technology. Our deployment pipeline alone took more than 4 weeks. It meant that all requests would have to go through emergency approvals, meaning everyone would not only have to do an egregious amount of technical work, but follow it up with a similarly egregious amount of clerical work.
"Sick bro! Hey - Happy hour at 6 downstairs, they just refilled the taps, let's party!"
You hadn't responded before he danced out of the room.
You look around the room. Your team is looking [[back at you->team]].Most of them have families or visas dependent on their jobs. They'd seen their coworkers punished, stagnated, denied promotions, or fired after being put in impossible positions.
You had enormous pride in your team. Sure, you were put under pressure often, and you had to push everyone accordingly, but you all survived. There was a fraternal bond in that suffering. Yet everyone around you looked broken, and it is your responsibility to keep them moving. And what of your own career? How would it look if you failed this feature, or lost most of your team?
Your stomach roils with the toxic brew you ingested to lift your head. If you are going to execute, you need to get them refocused on something completely new right this second. No half-stepping. Your manager had told you often enough.
You furrow your brow, and prepare to [[brief the team]]. As you look up, you notice that the emergency exit near the corner of the room is propped [[open]].
You gather what wits you have and call a team meeting. You give the same spiel you always give: we know how to pivot, we've done it a million times before. We'll get a mention in the townhall if we deliver, maybe some of our contractors will be offered fulltime jobs. There's free booze downstairs, and endless coffee and cheap snacks in the room. You get half-hearted acceptance - only the intern seems to be excited.
You don't have time to worry about the sentiment - you're still running on your concoction, so now is the best time to take advantage of it. You sit back down in your chair and face your [[monitor]].It dawns on you - it will never end. There will always be another client, another Chad. You feel yourself turning pale, your stomach contents sitting halfway up your esophagus.
Running the team into the ground won't save them, they'll only survive for a few more months before people start dropping like flies. Teddy died at their desk last year. Barbara just had a divorce because they kept having to stay late unexpectedly. Most of you had some substance keeping you running at all times.
The doctor told you last year your blood pressure was at dangerous levels, that a lifestyle change was necessary. You found it alarmist at the time.
You slowly descend the emergency exit stairwell, exiting the building on the backend. You drop your security fob in a street-performer's bucket on the corner.
You lose your stomach; but you somehow don't feel as empty. The wind is icy and whips away your bourbon-fueled glow. You continue walking in a daze. The sun winks through the clouds.
(set: $status to $status - (a: "Crushing Emptyness"))
---
''You are currently holding:'' (if:$pockets's length is 0)[
Nothing
](else:)[(for: each _item, ...$pockets)[
(print:_item + " ")]]
---
''You are currently feeling:'' (if:$status's length is 0)[
Something
](else:)[(for: each _item, ...$status)[
(print:_item + " ")]]
---