💥 When LinkedIn screams CEO energy but all you get is a digital badge and bitter coffee with a side of burnout.
Welcome to The Corporation™—where dreams go to get performance reviewed, stomachs run on KPIs, and salaries are fixed tighter than a gym bro’s grip on toxic hustle culture. It’s the workplace equivalent of a reality show: no prizes, just spreadsheets and spontaneous layoffs.
Here, to be valued, you gotta be:

• Agile like a gymnast in a task tornado,
• Adaptable like Excel trying to fix your mental breakdown with VLOOKUP,
• A stakeholder-whisperer in meetings that could’ve been emails,
• Full of “growth mindset” on a budget that screams low-cost airline,
• And a multitasking ninja paid like an unpaid intern with a motivational sticker.
  Me? I’m the LinkedIn dream, baby.
  Fluent in five languages. Master’s from Sweden. Four international universities. Enough diplomas to insulate my whole damn apartment and still have leftovers for coasters.
  My CV says “high potential.”
  My bank account says “tonight’s dinner is air-fried dreams and thin-sliced parizer.”
  Got a bonus once!
  After taxes, I bought a shawarma (no extra sauce—dreams are extra) and a half-stick of parizer to sniff for motivation over the weekend.
  And the perks?
  Oh honey, don’t get me started.
  🥗 Meal vouchers—that beautiful lie where:
• 60% land on a card,
• 40% come from my own damn paycheck.
  It’s giving “salary self-service.”
  ☕ Free office coffee?
  Tastes like regret and underpaid potential. No sugar? It’s a shot of reality, just like your net salary alert: bitter, brutal, and character-building.
  We’re also “global”!
  Fancy word for:
  “We have offices in every country where Harvard-level talent gets Balkan-level wages.”
  Romania. Bulgaria. Ukraine. Tunisia.
  Brains from Scandinavia. Paychecks from the bargain bin.
  And after all that? I got a digital badge.
  🏅 “Pillar of the Team with Discount Digestive Health.”
  Step aside, LinkedIn influencers and their “just apply with confidence!” nonsense. The only thing I’m manifesting is a bigger bonus than my Revolut cashback.
  But guess what? I’m not giving up.
  ‘Cause one day—after budget cuts, a reorg, a merger, and probably another motivational email about “embracing agility”—I WILL get extra sauce on that shawarma.
  And maybe even parizer with cașcaval.
  Until then?
  We mute ourselves on calls.
  We sip the bitter brew of dreams deferred.
  And we slay. In silence. With sarcasm.
  Welcome to GPTrauma Café.
  We serve truth, trauma, and just enough hope to make you show up tomorrow.
  Now go update your LinkedIn with “Resilience Specialist with Advanced Snack Budget Management.”