Corporate world of oppression

As a neurodivergent kid I've always struggled to fit myself into systems: educational, professional, whatever frameworks or processes life threw at me, I always had problems to push me into the mold. Was it like this for you too?

Sitting in lectures, trying to squeeze in, find the way to comply with the world created for normies created the sense of alienation in me, the sense that I don't want to be the part of the system whatever the cost. Years have passed, and I've put together a little greenhouse around me, where I can thrive far away from meetings and managers. Well, almost. I've reduced the need to waste my time on calls, that can be emails, and emails that can be messaged in slack. I prefer async communication, and that reduced the stress a lot, but not completely.

The last thing left: I've always wanted to stop selling my time for money. I wanted to bring myself into a position, when I don't need to wake up when someone else tells me, to be free of someone's standards and cherish my own world of creativity and freedom. And corporate culture is none of that. The solution was obvious: if you don't like how the table is set, turn the table. I decided to be a businessman and run my own company. That serves me better, but man I failed to fit miserably so many times.

Every diversity Tuesday, cringy "happy birthday to you" out of tune in the office, lifeless faces in a round, office manager named Claudia built up pressure in me. Social Fridays with people I can't stand, shitty pizza, overtimes, office, coffee machine talks and standups filled me with misery even before the day started. And the Germans managed to make this all even more miserable and gray for me, as it already was. Germans don't understand excellence, neither they understand non-compliance, freedom nor specialty. Every time they see a person, who doesn't fit into the framework, they try to cut off the edges or stigmatize the person in front of them. Because for Germans, the system is the cult.

One of the most absurd and humiliating experiences I had was working for Scholz & Volkmer in Berlin. Today, being a 35-year-old adult, I understand what was wrong, namely everything, but for whatever reason I convinced myself I can work with Germans in an OMFG advertising agency. My mission was to develop backend and boy it didn't work from the day 1.

My arch nemesis was the useless texter named let's say Miserable Rat. The Miserable Rat was a blooming saggy fag in his thirties, and I was a juicy hotty fab in my 20s, and the Miserable Rat hated me for that. More than that, I was obviously a gazillion times smarter, and she couldn't handle. So as she's been working in there for ages and also was a friend with an unouted sonderkommando kampflesbe named let's say Testosterone Dispenser. They have plotted against me, and logically, I was kicked out after six months of probation period. Funnily enough, I had a freelance job interview with them years later because if you don't learn the lesson, life will teach you that lesson again.

So at this German to the bone company they had a tradition of (what, team building?) preparing the breakfast and, in the finest tradition of the Soviet Union and their Friends between Revolutions, they had a rotating list of those who did that. Well, eventually my turn came, and I thought I will surprise them with some Russian cooking. Well, I thought I could, but I can cook, I promise!!!

So the day came, I bought all the stuff in advance so I could cook the semolina porridge for them. One thing I miscalculated was how much of it I would need to cook to feed 14 people and that I will have to cook in the office kitchen, where neither my equipment were nor I knew the stove or anything whatsoever. I overestimated my cook qualification, that's for sure.

You see, when you cook the semolina porridge, it's critical not to overdo it or the lower level will turn to ashes. And that is what happened. Nervous and sweaty, I stood there helplessly trying to make this fucking porridge not to burn further and to save it the rest of it somehow. I decided to pivot at the last moment and just to scoop the top layer and pretend nothing happened.

People started gathering at the table and at that moment the entire office smelled like the burned ass of late miss Diva, and I was panicking. I started spreading the porridge portions among the colleagues, and one of the girls noticed me sinking and offered to add some cinnamon, to kind of spice it up again. All the Germans sat at the table, smelled the grayish goo I put for them to feast on and girl I couldn't stop receiving so familiar passive aggression in their posture and faces. They've become increasingly drawn up with transgression, disdain and disgust. I stood there in silence and the Germans just casually proceeded to discuss how they actually all hated semolina porridge, especially the Ost Germans. I was destroyed.

Not only I had to sit through that miserable event and eat whatever was available, right there, right in front of the smelly proof of my failure as a German, failure in socializing, fitting in. Today I want to hug baby Ady and say: "Sweetie, my love, my kind, creative, full of life and intelligent, delicate soul, shit on them. None of them deserves your attention, you are fabulous, even with the burned semolina porridge on your hands. None of the fuckers would ever have the bravery and talent to even try something interesting. All of what they were doing for this event was buying Brötchen und Käse. You don't need to cut yourself down to fit in. Cut them out of your life instead".

I was one of the youngest in this company, I was from another country, fresh and innocent and none of those motherfuckers had a single bit of compassion for me, except the second office manager who obviously hated them the same way as I did. I rubbed them in all the wrong ways, and they let me know. I was never wanted anywhere in Russia before, to move to Germany and to find out that I am still a misfit was a bitter realization. But well girls, it's not anymore, no German will put me down anymore.

As a bonus, listen to AI discussing my problems fitting into corporate culture. This is uncanny.