The Cheater in Us
Photo owned by LetÃcia Lua on Pexels The year was 2017, and I was a freelance Regional Account Manager for an international augmenting data intelligence company. I had just finished a long-ass meeting with C-levels somewhere in central Jakarta and asked for a break. I headed to the bathroom to take a deep breath and calm myself down. I chose one of the nearest bathroom booths from the entrance and sat there for a full five minutes, trying to ease the trembling in my hands. Long-ass business meetings were never easy to cope with, especially knowing there were still more engagements ahead. You can feel your energy draining, your body wanting to give up, but your brain keeps telling you to hold on—sending warnings, reminders, and sticky notes about what’s next. Then I heard someone crying—no, sobbing hard. The building wasn’t some old, creepy place with urban ghost stories. It was new, as far as I can remember. But I still recall the sobs because they were so heartbreaking. I got up...
