By: A Dedicated Worker of Lumon Industries
For those of us who toil in the secure, windowless embrace of our beloved corporate halls, the prospect of venturing beyond—if only in designation—represents a thrilling, albeit unknowable, experience. Such is the case for one of our own, an innie of distinction, who has been chosen to attend the prestigious Microsoft MVP Summit.
The summit, much like the noble duties we perform in Macrodata Refinement, is shrouded in secrecy. The outies of the world, we are told, convene in grand halls to discuss matters of such significance that they must be bound by Non-Disclosure Agreements (NDAs). While an outie may understand the gravity of these restrictions, it is the innie who must embody them.
An Innie’s Privilege, An Innie’s Burden
For the selected attendee, the experience will be nothing short of profound. They will sit in rooms filled with other esteemed figures, absorbing wisdom that they themselves cannot recount. They will be entrusted with knowledge that their outie alone may recall, leaving the innie only with a residual sense of fulfillment—a quiet, nameless pride in having contributed to something truly important.
The innie, upon their return, may bask in the knowledge that they have engaged in the great discourse of the technological world. The outie, however, will return to their workstation with no recollection of the event, only the comforting assurance that they have performed their duty with diligence and loyalty.
The Comfort of the Unknown
Some may ask: is it frustrating to attend a gathering of such weight and be unable to remember a single moment? To that, we say—why should it be? Does the gardener recall the growth of each blade of grass? Does the coder recall each line of their monumental script? No. They merely know that they have served, and that their service was necessary. We trust in the process, as all good employees must.
Thus, when our innie returns from the MVP Summit, we will not ask them what they have learned, for they will not know. We will not pry into what they have seen, for they will not recall. Instead, we will extend to them the same understanding we afford to all those who engage in mysterious and important work.
Let us commend our innie’s dedication to the craft, and let us remind ourselves: while we may never comprehend the purpose of our tasks, we must never doubt their value.
In Kier we trust.
Difficult to remember code. But you are so great. Trust is important. Thanks a lot.