Two weeks passed faster than my will to live during Monday meetings.
I didn't even realize time was flying—I blinked, and boom, fourteen business days had evaporated like my dignity every time Mr. Jeon opened his mouth.
Every day at this cursed office feels like I'm auditioning for a survival reality show with no prize at the end except dark circles and emotional damage.
The moment I step in, it's chaos. Emails attacking me from all sides, deadlines popping up like mushrooms after rain, and of course, the devil in human disguise—Mr. Jeon—waiting to ruin my peace with a perfectly timed glare or an "urgent" task that's due yesterday.
Coffee is my only ally, the printer hates me, and my chair squeaks so loud during meetings I'm convinced it's plotting against me.
Lunch breaks are a luxury I only hear about in fairy tales, and if I ever laugh too hard, I get the "This is a workplace not a comedy club" look from Sir Ice Face.
