I guess I’m just… tired. Every single day, every day, I log into that stupid video call and put on my show. The data-analyst-slash-manager-in-training, ready to CRUSH IT. Ready to be the “face” of the team, which is so funny because my face just wants to be staring at spreadsheets in silence. But my manager, Brenda, she’s super extroverted, loves talking, loves… ENERGY. And she keeps dropping hints about "leadership presence" and "executive visibility" and how, you know, being a data whiz is great, but people gotta see you, see your *spark*. So I sparkle. I smile till my jaw aches, I use those upbeat hand gestures I saw in some YouTube tutorial, I try to sound so enthusiastic about, like, pivot tables and Q3 projections. It's ridiculous. I’m 38, kind of, and I’m literally playing a part. A character. It's like I'm an actor in my own life, but the pay is… well, the pay is gig work, no benefits, so who am I kidding? The worst part, I think, is that it kinda… works? Like, Brenda will say something like, "Wow, Mark, love the energy today! Really bringing the good vibes!" And my team, they seem to respond, too. They’re all younger, mostly, and maybe they just think this is how you’re supposed to be in corporate America, even when it’s all Zoom calls from your kinda-sorta office (aka the corner of my living room). I’ll even throw in a "How's everyone feeling today, team? Let's get that Monday hustle on!" or some other nonsense I've heard somewhere. My inner monologue is screaming, *Hustle? What hustle? I barely slept, I just chugged lukewarm coffee, and I have three freelance projects due that are paying for, like, half my rent this month*. It’s all a big lie. Every single day, every day. And it doesn't even feel bad, not really. That’s what’s weird. It’s just… what I do. I mean, sometimes after a call, I just sit there. Staring at my screen, the fake smile gone, my face feeling… blank. Like a deflated balloon. I think about how Brenda is probably thinking, "Mark is really stepping up, he's got that leadership potential!" and I’m just thinking about how many more hours I have to work tonight to hit my income target for the week. And if this performance will actually get me anywhere, you know? Like, a real job. With health insurance. I don't know. Maybe it will. Maybe I’ll just keep being this bubbly, energetic guy who’s actually… not. Just a ghost, playing pretend. It’s easier than trying to be myself, I guess. Porque ser yo mismo… es demasiado.