Going to work is the most NSFW thing a person can do in a day. After the doors to the world are opened, mundane improbabilities put any safety in danger.

Arms are crushed by malfunctioning elevators, ankles are twisted by uneven stairs and hearts are stroked by the sight of a next door sweetheart in the arms of another.

Once out of the building, the footpath becomes a war zone. Bees cut the air like projectiles, public signs shout misleading orders to retreat and manholes work as unintended foxholes. One second of inattention is enough for a loose cannon to join the platoon, and the damage of a dispute for public real estate is irreversible.

In the open, ending possibilities are endless.

Cars, too, threaten. From the inside they are like spaceships in vacuum, never in control when averted from the designated route; from the outside they act like mad dogs seeking some flesh to spread their disease. These beasts drive everyone crazy.

Even within enclosed space again the average employee still cannot rest assured. There is collective hysteria, sudden dearth or tie ups to worry about. Cuts, releases, leverage, one-on-ones — a whole ABC to make up for the lack of win-win situations. Since death is hereditary, uncertainty keeps production in line.

And yet none of this puts more in risk than the intranet login. Work is what kills life.