THE MOTIVATION MACHINE
In a dystopian office somewhere on the 14th floor of a gray corporate skyscraper, Karen sighed. It was Monday, and she had run out of “motivation.” Without it, she couldn’t survive another week of spreadsheets, passive-aggressive emails, and team-building trust falls.
She approached the company’s latest invention, the Motivation Machine™. Management had replaced HR last year, claiming this vending machine was “innovative” and “cost-effective.” Karen wasn’t so sure. She inserted two coins, the exact cost of her last shred of dignity, and pressed a button labeled “Empty Promises.” The machine whirred and spat out a crumpled sticky note: “We’re working on that raise :)”
Behind her, her manager, Mr. Smiley, loomed. His fake grin stretched wider than his tie was long. “Do more with less!” he chirped, the same phrase he’d uttered every day since the company slashed budgets, doubled workloads, and turned the coffee machine into a pay-per-cup system.
Karen glanced at the machine’s other options: Last-Minute Praise (free but utterly useless) and Mandatory Team-Building (costing three coins and her will to live). She debated pressing Advance on Salary—but everyone knew that button was just there for decoration.
As she bent to retrieve her sticky note, she spotted the tipped-over bucket labeled “Employee of the Week.” It had been empty for months. The only thing more vacant was the company’s promises of work-life balance.
Karen pocketed the sticky note, plastered on her best fake smile, and returned to her desk. One day, she thought, someone would unplug the Motivation Machine™. Maybe it would be her. Until then, she planned to survive the week, one hollow promise at a time.
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