It's early morning in the tunnel. Possibly too early, as the light at the end is still sleeping. You grab your invisible briefcase and hop onto the express ratway. It's not that you're a rat, but the cheese is always in the next cubicle, isn't it?
As you navigate through the fluorescent labyrinth, you overhear Jerry from accounting. Apparently, he accidentally clocked into a different dimension where spreadsheets grow on trees. "They're like money mangoes," he says, "but don't taste very good."
Further along, there's a commotion. Someone's lost their stapler, but this isn't just any stapler. Rumor has it, it can staple through time and space. "Who needs to bind a presentation," quips Lisa from HR, "when you can bind reality itself?"
At the next stop, someone offers you a flyer for "Extra Hours Coffee – Now With 40% Less Time!" It's tempting, but you already feel time slipping through your fingers like a soggy office memo.
Finally, you reach the break room, a serene oasis amidst the chaos. But wait, it's a mirage! Just yesterday, you were filling your cup with hope. Today, it's an empty echo. "We are out of coffee again," sighs the barista robot, "and out of ambition too."