MONEY DIARIES: Palo Alto on $1/yr plus Billions

Occupation: Founder of Facebook
Industry: Fucking America
Hobby: Fucking Humanity
Age: 34
Location: Palo Alto, CA
Income: $1/yr, technically.

Paycheck Amount (Yearly): $1
Additional Income: On top of my incredibly noble & humble salary, I’m worth billions, and have never known want nor hunger (#blessed).

Monthly Expenses
Rent: Is for peasants
Student Loan Payment: $0 (student loans are for peasants)
Health Insurance: $0 (I own several doctors)
Gym Membership: $0 (I jog for minimum required flesh maintenance, but am eager to transcend this meat-sack)
Soylent: $129.20/month (no flavoring)
Phone Bill: $0 (phones are for peasants)
Netflix, Spotify, Amazon: $0 (I only watch You)

Day One

7:34 a.m. — I wake at precisely 7:34AM, in silence, as I do every morning without fail. I roll over and gaze at my wife, one of my two emotional connections to this wretched planet, for approximately 3.479 seconds.
- $9.32 in opportunity cost

7:41 a.m. — I consume one unit of Soylent. I feel nothing.
- $3.0875 exactly

8:06 a.m. — I check Facebook, Facebook Messenger, & WhatsApp. I ponder how anyone can attach such meaning to so petty a thing as social media, then close them for the day.
+ $10,345 in net worth

10:17 a.m. — I make the first round of firings for the week, based on performance metrics. Water drips from one of their eyes, as I monitor the transaction on a security camera. I make a note to inquire about this behavior later.

1:11 p.m. — I spend a few moments encouraging my employees to make sure they give Holocaust deniers a voice today. They nod, so I must be right.

4:20 p.m. — I review a report noting that we have suspended 11,509 women for posting lighthearted jokes about men today alone; I approve the report as well as raises for the content moderators.
- $0.05 per moderator per year

8:11 p.m. — I put my child to bed, and gaze upon it for approximately 2.351 seconds. I spend a further 309.172 seconds wondering why I can’t seem to generate empathy for anyone I’m not married to or father of.
- $12.69 in opportunity cost

Day Two

7:34 a.m. — I wake at precisely 7:34AM, in silence, as I do every morning without fail. I roll over and gaze at my wife, one of my two emotional connections to this wretched planet, for approximately 3.479 seconds.
- $9.32 in opportunity cost

7:41 a.m. — I consume one unit of Soylent. I feel nothing.
- $3.0875 exactly

8:06 a.m. — I check Facebook, Facebook Messenger, & WhatsApp. I ponder how anyone can attach such meaning to so petty a thing as social media, then close them for the day.
+ $10,345 in net worth

9:41 a.m. — I fly on a private jet to Washington, D.C., where a gang of small men think they can control me. Me? And they say I am arrogant. So bold, these little Congress-men. So inconsequential.
$0; the company gives me free flights in exchange for mentioning me as a customer

11:19 a.m.-2:31 p.m. — I basically lie to Congress, as they are too old & stupid & greedy to understand or care about the nuances of my scam.
+1 smile of emotional gain

4:53 p.m. — On my free flight home, I consume another unit of Soylent while I send a company-wide memo reminding everyone again that white supremacists specifically are warmly welcome on Facebook.
- $3.0875 exactly

8:11 p.m. — I put my child to bed, and gaze upon it for approximately 2.351 seconds. I spend a further 309.172 seconds wondering why I can’t seem to generate empathy for anyone I’m not married to or father of; however, today’s pondering leaves me with an unusual sense of unease. Achievement of a sleep state requires 1.003 seconds more than standard.
- $12.73 in opportunity cost

Day Three

7:52 a.m. — I awake late. My wife is not in bed. Curious.
I know not what this change portends.

7:59 a.m. — I attempt to consume a unit of Soylent, but the taste turns to ashes on my tongue. I pour the rest out in the sink, and my unease grows stronger.
They cost…I do not know. Why can I not remember?

8:14 a.m. — I check Facebook, Facebook Messenger, & WhatsApp. I start to report a photo of a woman breastfeeding her child, and then I realize, that is my wife, & my child, in our secondary solarium. I am struck with paralysis for a further hour, unable to decide how to proceed.
Why can I not punish the guilty?

9:14 a.m. — I consider calling one of my personal doctors for aid.
This must be meat-weakness. But I am not weak. I am strong. Am I not?

10:58 a.m. — I am struck by an overwhelming, disorientating need to condemn white supremacists. This is not normal. I begin drafting a memo about Facebook should maybe try valuing compassion for even just one day. This feels somehow wrong. Is it?
What if I declared compassion valuable? What if I became a true, positive changemaker?

11:33 a.m. — I burp, for the first time in decades, & feel relief. My unease dissolves, as does my ludicrous lust for compassion. I delete the draft memo, & complete the report of my wife; I will have a subordinate send her a fresh copy of the platforms Terms of Service.
All is restored. Curse the frailties of this flesh; long live incubating white supremacy for profit!