A girl at work called a robot last week. She says that when I’m busy doing something, a task, anything… I don’t look human.

I admit it. I don’t like being interrupted.

Back at my old office, before I got transferred in May, my work used to set an example to others. My friends, colleagues, and managers all observed, respected, and learned from my work. I usually look for what is needed to do a better job and assign tasks for myself. I don’t think that would make me a geek or a person with no life. It is because I do have a life that I always wanted to enhance myself and become a better person. I don’t bother myself with competition. I just look at what needs to be done and do it. You can’t joke all day and expect to do a better job. You have to justify your bank account to yourself. Give reasons to holding on to a job.

At work, that attitude is what kept me from sinking into the all-Egyptian lack of care and ambition.

I was not called a robot.

Unfortunately, at my new branch, even my manager feels sorry for me. Instead of setting the same example of hard work, I have managed to make them pity me like a rodent running inside its own self-created wheel. My new colleagues and manager try to avoid creating tasks for themselves and ditch all sorts of responsibility. However, they try to offer me their help so we can all go home early.

Home early… what a joke!!

Those women should stay home and cook, diet, or read workflows of fashion magazines. No offence but, don’t you think most women out there spend their time at work discussing fashion, diet, and cooking?

I used to think that I deserve to call the shots… but then again I don’t have the right connections… or attitude apparently.

Last week I tried out their attitude. Felt good, boring, and not very healthy.

At least I’ll get paid the same salary, right?

Robot my ass. That bitch!!

Rumor has it that that girl, who used to be someone in top management’s secretary, is the reason why I got transferred to that new branch. Apparently, she filled the slot of an average employee and since it was just her and a new guy, they had to get someone experienced to sort of run the show.

My inflated ego only lasted for a couple of days… then I realized that I was being used.

My newly adapted attitude should serve me well, I reckon.

Robots do malfunction from time to time.

Apparently, they do it for a reason.