In a job whose primary means of promotion was political maneuvering, and undermining another’s decisions and actions, Jack felt his situation and his attitude towards his work to be a bright neon sign.  He knew that any of the hundreds of ground floor wage slaves would be happy to take his job, as he had once taken another’s.
Jack noticed a minty smell and dank chill.  He waited for a snide word, a painfully biting comment, but heard none.  As the atmosphere cleared, Jack knew he only had a few options:  get his act back together; get into the politics of relationships.  Neither seemed possible, not with the bleakness of the prospect of continuing his work day in and day out until he made enough money to buy a house and rot away in the dark, hooked up to some virtual simulation of a secluded and sunny beach.  Jack stared into empty nothingness as the variables of his life and future tumbled through his mind in different combinations.  
As his screen floated by a particularly juicy looking bit of data, a perfectly shining orb of golden radiance which was a unique, artistic enough piece of psychological code to have turned his fortunes into an upswing around the office, Jack quietly rose from his seat.  Before he walked away from his desk he covered the tiny star in a recursive bit of code that would hide it from the other reapers, and make it appear to the corporation’s server as featureless, native programming.  Then he reconnected it to the originator’s persona, giving the customer free benefit of their own creation, which seemed to be a well constructed bit of code that would allow the individual to indulge in perpetually happy thoughts.  
Jack walked away from his desk, through the corridor, and stepped through the silent, normally invisible double doors of the building entrance.  The security system recorded his leaving an hour early, the fifth time he had done so in the last 30 days, which triggered an “attention” flag in his employment file.  Tomorrow, his manager would be prompted to have a sit down talk with Jack about his punctuality, work ethics, and commitment to the corporation’s goals.
Jack had no plans of being anywhere in the vicinity of his desk, or the office building, tomorrow.  Approaching his car, a regrettably new purchase, Jack ran over a list of things to do:  clean out bank account; pack up valuables.  
Driving away, Jack wondered what he would do.  He figured he could sleep in his car for awhile, buying cheap food and roughing it through mountain ranges, forests, and deserts.  He could also drag himself to relatives, people who would house his chemical riddled body and mind, while his flesh and psyche repaired themselves.  
Maybe, he thought, he would just get drunk and wasted until he ran out of cash and fell on hard times.  Or, maybe he could get another job. 