How does the work on the technology giant

Morning

You are in San Francisco. Or where there. Silicon Valley in San Francisco? In any case, you live here. Next to other techies.

Since you have already got out of your single bed, you are most likely sitting in the corporate bus. You register your place via smartphone. Sit next to a colleague and communicate with him through a smartphone. A smartphone you have a new version, not yet released - because it is slightly thinner than the version that has already been released. And he can recognize the retina.

The path to the office takes less time than you would like. The office building is designed to resemble 1970s leisure centers, sits in the middle of the lawn, and the Californian (or whatever) sun winks at you, reflecting from its windows. There is a lot of grass outside, but there are few windows in the building.
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You are obliged to drink coffee, because your manager has spent $ 10,000 on a coffee machine, which is controlled by the application from your smartphone. It is also the “social zone” of your company, where you have to chat with everyone who is there. You complain about this rule to a woman you see for the first time. She smiles, but she looks over her shoulder.

You carry coffee to your workplace. But this is not your workplace - it is a common workplace, which everyone periodically takes up as needed (hot-desk). And while you were chatting at the coffee machine, you only had the edge of the table. One that smelled of tuna. And it continues to smell like that no matter how many emails you sent with a smell complaint.

You pull your laptop out of your backpack like it's a skateboard. And although you are not physically developed at all, you want this to really turn out to be a skate. Or a shotgun. You insert it into the docking station, and he clicks with displeasure. It takes ten minutes to get the docking station monitor to copy the desktop of the laptop. You have nothing out. You open some kind of application that you use for programming, and for three hours you run the cursor along the lines, the meaning of which you do not fully understand. At some point, your manager distracts you - she says she is bored, complains about her daily routine, but in fact he checks if you took coffee in the morning.

“Daily Routine is a good name for a cafe,” you say. But she can't hear you. She asks if you will play in the department’s softball team. You answer that your wrists hurt.

Dinner

Although all the employees dine at the buffet, the most important people are always at the head of the line, or sitting at the best table, facing the parking lot.

You wait in line for a meal for about 15 minutes, scrolling through the screens in the Tinder social app, hoping that people will leave you with their conversations. The woman you met at the coffee machine is standing at the salad bar. She smiles at the tanned man working in the sales department. He has stubble and rocket salad. You run your finger on the chin - and I would like to have a beard.

All that remains of the food is mushroom risotto. You hate him, but the food is a good excuse not to sit at the laptop. You join four people you do not know. They discuss the application that one of them recently downloaded. The user enters the number of times he went to the toilet, the duration and color of the urine - and at the end of the week the application says what it is and when it dies. You feel a sore tongue at the moment when the risotto warmed in the microwave is stirring with a spoon.

Day

You are returning to a shared workplace. Going upstairs - this is considered an exercise. The rest have already returned, and you worry that you are late. Your manager is not there, and you open your application for programming. You drive the cursor along the lines, scratching periodically.

A letter comes from HR with a reminder - you are expected at an optional training event tomorrow after work, the absence of which will look strange. It is dedicated to the mental health of workers in technology companies. Your email application automatically adds a reminder to the calendar. Your phone vibrates while acknowledging receipt of a reminder.

You chase the cursor. Air conditioning purrs. Someone's phone is ringing and they apologize loudly. At some point, you decide to go to the toilet, but worry that you have to talk to someone. Yes, and those guys with an application about urine can be in the toilet. They may notice your color.

Video call is your manager. She smiles, her room looks as if she is in that part of the planet where it is more sunny than in San Francisco, Silicon Valley or where you are there. But her office is actually a little further down the hall. She wants to check whether you drank coffee during the day. You're lying, that drank. She leans to the side and checks something on some kind of electronic device. She says that the Wi-Fi of the coffee machine is probably buggy, because it says that you only drank coffee today in the morning. You agree to drink more coffee. The manager asks if you made a decision about the softball team. You mumble something about your wrists.

Evening

The bus is waiting in the parking lot. Headphones inside it make some sounds. Seat the script below you when you drop down on it. It sounds indecent. You look around to see if anyone has noticed it. But all heads bowed, as if in prayer.

You open Twitter. Fingers freeze in indecision. You are closing Twitter. The sun begins to set. The bus drives off from the parking lot. You catch the driver's eye in the rearview mirror. He looks away.