In Part 1, we discussed how intentionally vague and fluff-filled job descriptions protect the machine.
In Part 2, we said that your job probably isn’t what you were promised—and that’s by design.
Alright. You’ve read the job description. You’ve played the corporate improv game. You’ve pretended to “drive alignment” while screaming internally.
Now what?
You’ve got two options: 1) survive the system or 2) set fire to the beige carpet and walk out holding your reusable coffee mug like a grenade.
Let’s talk about both.
1. Survival Mode: Playing the Game Without Losing Your Soul
You want the salary. You need health insurance. You’re not ready to flip a desk on a Tuesday. That’s valid. Here’s how to stay in the system without letting it crush your brain like a dry leaf:
Translate Corporate to Human
When someone says: “We need to align on the deliverables across functions to ensure stakeholder satisfaction.”
What they mean is: “Can we just get this done so nobody yells?”
Learn the code. Smile and nod. Cut through the fodder and do the actual thing that’s needed.
Set Soft Boundaries with Hard Energy
You can’t always just say “no”, but you can say:
“That’s not a priority right now.”
“Happy to support, but I’ll need to de-prioritize something else.”
“Can you clarify what success looks like?”
These phrases are like corporate armour: polite, professional, and quietly resistant.
Embrace Strategic Mediocrity
Some systems don’t deserve your best.
Learn where effort goes to die, and stop feeding it. You’re not being lazy—you’re conserving energy for work that matters.
Let mediocrity be your protest art.
Or you can go the other way.
2. Arson Mode: Burn It Down (But Like, Thoughtfully)
Maybe you’re done.
Maybe you’ve realized that no amount of “thought partnership” can make up for the fact that your job is 70% meetings and 30% pretending to care.
Here’s how to burn it down without torching your entire life:
Kill the Dream Job Fantasy
There is no perfect job. There is only less bullshit.
Stop chasing The One. Start identifying environments where you’re allowed to breathe, build, and occasionally say, “This is dumb,” without consequences. Find managers who let you thrive and will back your most ambitious plans. Build an army of supporters quietly and diligently.
Start Saying What You Actually Think
You don’t have to go full scorched-earth. But try this at your next job interview:
“I thrive in environments that value clarity, autonomy, and actual impact—not just pretty words.”
If they flinch, it’s not the right place. If they nod? You just found a crack in the system.
Remember: You’re Not Crazy. The System Is.
It’s not you.
You’re not too intense. Or too ambitious. Or too impatient.
You’re just awake in a system designed to put people to sleep.
You’re allowed to want better. You’re allowed to demand better. And you're allowed to quietly—or loudly—call bullshit on a system that asks for your passion while feeding you PowerPoints.
Your employer doesn't own your creativity. They just rent it. For now.
“Your employer doesn't own your creativity. They just rent it. For now.” This line is pure gold.