Professionals in diapers...

I feel thoroughly confused that grown arse adults in corporate circles can behave like jealous high school bitches, or like toddlers to gifts. You know, when buying candy for a group of toddlers, you must make sure that even the wrappings are the same to avoid protest, but that's because toddlers aren't fully formed to overstand the concept of equity and equality.

Here, I have seen people who call themselves professionals, being in a constant state of competition with everyone at work, including those that their line of work has no relationship of rivalry with. I have seen them lose remembrance of their own benefits and advantages the moment it is someone else's turn to benefit. Like enemies of progress, they'll not perform well, but ever ready to raise objections about performance based raises of deserving colleagues, rather than being happy for them, or being inspired to work on improving their own appraisal points. Folks cannot see their mates flourish without putting a degrading name to their success. If you're a lady and you're beautiful, you're automatically a victim, because they'll disregard your hardwork and accuse you of using what you have to get what you want. But never mind, because unless they repent, they'll all die and go to hell. So screw 'em.

The stagnant ones will team up with the philosophers of pessimism to create cliques within the workplace, and to talk trash, or to tell lies about progressive colleagues. They'll tell you, "let's tolerate each other and make work fun," but their way of making work fun is to prevent others from having fun. All their salaries are Haram because rather than going to work to work, they go to work to get others worked up. They'll invariably see others being caused to reap the evils they sow, but no twist of event is a wake-up call for them, because they're stupid like that.

And despite all these counterproductive nonsense, come Eid or Friday, they'll pray as follows: "yalna jaama yaaga" (may peace be lengthened in time). Mtcheew! Jaama my skinny arse. You don't expect me to fake an Amen, because I'm not. Wickedly ungrateful souls!