Mood: Existential dread
Current Status: Re-reading my contract for "Hazardous Material" clauses.
08:00 AM: It has been one week since the Filing Cabinet Incident. I am officially a "Beta." According to the HR manual—which reads like a poorly written fanfiction—I am a "stabilizing force in the workplace." In plain English: I am the only person who can walk past a pheromone cloud without needing a cold shower or therapy session.
10:00 AM: My boss, Mr. Kim, tried to "assert dominance" over a delivery driver because the man brought soy milk instead of almond. Everyone else in the room started sweating and looking at the floor. I just handed Kim a napkin and told him his fly was down.
10:05 AM: It wasn't actually down, but the sheer confusion of the statement broke his "Alpha Aura" immediately. Total silence for four minutes. I used the time to make him sign the lease renewals.
04:00 PM: Spent an hour searching the internet "Can you develop a secondary gender at thirty?" The internet says no. My bank account says I better hope not, because the Beta tax bracket is the only one that makes sense for my retirement plan.