HOW TO FAKE NORMAL

OFFICE POLITICS 101

Chad invited me to a team-building retreat. I knew it was a trap the moment he said “mandatory fun.” Nothing good ever follows that phrase. It’s like saying “harmless cult” or “trust me, I’m an influencer.”

The retreat was held at a coworking space that looked like a Pinterest board had thrown up on it. Exposed brick walls, succulents in tiny pots, and bean bags that screamed “we don’t believe in chairs.”

We started with trust falls. I refused to participate on the grounds that I don’t trust anyone who uses “synergy” in casual conversation.

Then came the gluten-free muffins. They tasted like betrayal and sadness. Chad called them “brain fuel.” I called them “edible cardboard.”

The highlight of the day was a PowerPoint presentation titled Empathy: The New Currency. Chad stood in front of a screen, gesturing like a TED Talk reject, while slides flashed phrases like “Feelings are assets” and “Emotional ROI.”

I whispered to the janitor beside me, “Is this satire?”

He shook his head. “I wish.”

We bonded instantly. His name was Raymond. He’d worked there for six years and had mastered the art of invisibility. “They only notice me when the kombucha fridge leaks,” he said.

“I only get noticed when I write affirmations that sound like therapy slogans,” I replied.

We high-fived. It was the most productive moment of my week.

Later, Chad asked me to write a blog post about “emotional productivity.” I Googled the phrase. It didn’t exist. I considered that a red flag.

Still, I wrote 800 words about how crying at your desk builds character. I included lines like:

- “Tears are just your soul’s way of rebooting.”

- “Embrace the breakdown—it’s a breakthrough in disguise.”

- “Productivity isn’t about doing more. It’s about feeling more while doing less.”

Chad loved it. “You’ve got the voice of the brand,” he said, eyes gleaming like he’d just discovered a new cryptocurrency.

I started to worry about the future of humanity.

By the end of the retreat, I’d learned three things:

1. Chad thinks empathy can be monetized.

2. Raymond is my new spiritual guide.

3. I can fake sincerity for exactly 6.5 hours before my soul starts leaking.

Back at my desk, I stared at my calendar. It had a quote for the day: “You are not your inbox.” I added a sticky note beneath it: “But your inbox is judging you.”

I texted Jules: I survived the retreat. Barely.

She replied: Did you cry?

Only internally.

That counts.

I leaned back in my chair, wondering how long I could keep pretending to care about emotionally intelligent calendars.

Probably until the kombucha ran out.