I was always raised to believe a home is a place where you want to be, somewhere filled with warmth, joy, people and things you love to be around. However, my boss tells me that my cold, clinical, joyless dilapidated shithole of an office with no air conditioning, where you sit a cubicle for eight hours a day with not a single meaningful interaction beyond “did you get your work done?” is my home. Am I wrong? Or is my boss an idiot?
I was always raised to believe a home is a place where you want to be, somewhere filled with warmth, joy, people and things you love to be around.
However, my boss tells me that my cold, clinical, joyless dilapidated shithole of an office with no air conditioning, where you sit a cubicle for eight hours a day with not a single meaningful interaction beyond “did you get your work done?” is my home.
Am I wrong? Or is my boss an idiot?