Latest news with #corporateLife
Irish Times
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4: Fun and refreshingly anarchic, but more valiant revolt than workplace revolution
The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4 Peacock stage, Abbey Theatre, Dublin ★★★☆☆ Set in the sterile, fluorescent-lit vacuum that is the office of an anonymous Irish fund-management firm, The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4 is a new play by Caitríona Daly that explores the absurdity of corporate life with humour and chaos. Ronán Duffy's design perfectly captures that nowhere aesthetic: cool-toned, clean and soulless. The details are crushingly well observed: unopened water bottles, swivel chairs and token charity teddy bears. Three employees are locked in Conference Room 4 during lunch to decide how to spend the company's annual corporate social-responsibility budget. Ambitious Clodagh (Caoimhe O'Malley) and rural outsider Daniel (Fionn Foley) are unexpectedly joined by Jess (Emma Dargan-Reid), a new receptionist pulled in under the false pretence of a team-building exercise. What unfolds in Raymond Keane's production is a descent into role-play and theatrical mayhem as they audition proposals, from saving the bees to sponsoring a GAA club in Offaly, in a half-baked gameshow-style competition. Meanwhile, a frenzied HR rep, Susan (Helen Norton), makes comic attempts to regain control. The play skewers the hollowness of corporate ethics, presenting them as less about morality than about optics. When Jess suggests directing funds toward more urgent causes – medical aid for Gaza, domestic-abuse services, poverty relief – she's met with deflection. Clodagh briskly explains that the company has a Tel Aviv office, the chief executive has an abuse conviction and giving money to poor people would draw too much media scrutiny. READ MORE The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4: Fionn Foley, Emma Dargan-Reid and Caoimhe O'Malley. Photograph: Rich Davenport The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4: Emma Dargan-Reid as Jess. Photograph: Rich Davenport The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4: Fionn Foley as Daniel. Photograph: Rich Davenport At this point, Jess, depicted as a caricature of a left-wing millennial, erupts in unconvincing rage. Even if she didn't know the specifics of the company's shady dealings, her shock feels disingenuous. We live in a world where corporate evil is no longer surprising but regarded with quiet, beaten-down apathy and irony. A more compelling play might have explored why the real-life Jess might have known all this and taken the job anyway. Our collective resignation, not outrage, is the more urgent moral dilemma. The play's structure, alternating wild improvisation with moments of emotional honesty, is both its strength and its flaw. There's real energy in the madness: Daniel dons a princess dress and peroxide wig to play a Trump-supporting southern belle named Tiffany; Clodagh transforms into a brittle talkshow host in sunglasses and a feather boa. There's military cosplay, Mario Kart references and layers of silliness. None of it needs to make sense: it's driven by the Bacchic release of characters seeking escape from soul-crushing monotony. The performances are uniformly strong, and the sense of play is genuine. Still, the production's loose form eventually undercuts its themes. It builds to a climax that offers no explanations, only an unnecessary burst of metatheatre and a choreographed dance to Tame Impala. Why Tame Impala? A giddy embrace of the meaninglessness we now inhabit? It borders on the hysterical, a distraction from the questions the play raises but can't resolve. The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4 is fun and refreshingly anarchic. But its wildness, its best and most unusual quality, is also its undoing. A valiant, messy, entertaining lunchtime revolt, but not a revolution. The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4 is at the Abbey Theatre , Dublin, until Saturday, September 6th
Yahoo
19-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘Who did this guy become?' This creator quit his job and lost his TikTok audience
If you've built an audience around documenting your 9-to-5 online, what happens after you hand in your notice? This new tax deduction in Trump's 'big, beautiful bill' lets people cash in on charitable donations up to $2,000. Here's what to know These are the 3 best questions to ask at the end of your job interview Ikea is launching new smart home products, and they're designed to be extra easy to use That's the conundrum facing Connor Hubbard, aka ' a creator who amassed a huge following by sharing the mundane details of his corporate life as a senior analyst at a Fortune 500 company. In April 2024, The Guardian dubbed him 'the most boring man on the internet,' with some of his most popular videos showing viewers his lunch breaks and daily 9-to-5 routine. The internet couldn't get enough. 'It just seemed to get a lot of traction, because I think most of the world is working,' he told GQ in an interview. 'They have to work for a living. They can't all be influencers.' Then he quit. Not for another job, but to become a full-time influencer. Clips from a recent livestream began circulating after Hubbard told viewers he wouldn't answer questions unless they sent him a 'Galaxy,' a TikTok gift that costs 1,000 coins, or about $13. Unsurprisingly, this didn't go over well with fans. 'We need studies on the downfall of Hubs Life,' one TikTok user posted. 'Who did this guy become?' Hubbard has fallen into the relatability trap—one that often trips up influencers who go viral by sharing their ordinary lives. As their follower count grows, their lifestyle—as well as their content—inevitably shifts. Maybe it's a bigger house, more lavish brand trips, or, in Hubbard's case, quitting the job that made him famous in the first place. Suddenly, the content no longer reflects what drew the audience in. 'He left his 6-figure job FOR THIS,' one person commented. 'This storyline would be a good Black Mirror episode,' another added. (Fast Company has reached out to Hubbard for comment.) For audiences, watching their favorite influencers change in real time can feel disheartening—sometimes even like a betrayal. The backlash can be swift and harsh, or fans simply lose interest and move on. 'Hubs Life assumed people loved him, not the content,' another TikTok user observed. The internet is rarely forgiving, especially when followers feel responsible for someone's rise. It's a lesson Hubbard is learning the hard way. As one particularly brutal comment put it: 'We made the wrong person famous.' This post originally appeared at to get the Fast Company newsletter: Error in retrieving data Sign in to access your portfolio Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data
Fast Company
18-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Fast Company
‘Who did this guy become?' This creator quit his job and lost his TikTok audience
If you've built an audience around documenting your 9-to-5 online, what happens after you hand in your notice? That's the conundrum facing Connor Hubbard, aka ' a creator who amassed a huge following by sharing the mundane details of his corporate life as a senior analyst at a Fortune 500 company. In April 2024, The Guardian dubbed him 'the most boring man on the internet,' with some of his most popular videos showing viewers his lunch breaks and daily 9-to-5 routine. The internet couldn't get enough. 'It just seemed to get a lot of traction,' he told GQ in an interview, 'because I think most of the world is working. They have to work for a living. They can't all be influencers.' Then he quit. Not for another job, but to become a full-time influencer. Clips from a recent livestream began circulating after Hubbard told viewers he wouldn't answer questions unless they sent him a 'Galaxy,' a TikTok gift that costs 1,000 coins, or about $13. Unsurprisingly, it didn't go over well with fans. 'We need studies on the downfall of Hubs Life,' one TikTok user posted. 'Who did this guy become?' Hubbard has fallen into the relatability trap—one that often trips up influencers who go viral by sharing their ordinary lives. As their follower count grows, their lifestyle—and content—inevitably shifts. Maybe it's a bigger house, more lavish brand trips, or, in Hubbard's case, quitting the job that made him famous in the first place. Suddenly, the content no longer reflects what drew the audience in. 'He left his 6 figure job FOR THIS,' one person commented. 'This storyline would be a good black mirror episode,' another added. (Fast Company has reached out to Hubbard for comment.) For audiences, watching their favorite influencers change in real time can feel disheartening—sometimes even like a betrayal. The backlash can be swift and harsh, or fans simply lose interest and move on. 'Hubs Life assumed people loved him not the content,' another TikTok user observed. The internet is rarely forgiving, especially when followers feel responsible for someone's rise. It's a lesson Hubbard is learning the hard way. As one particularly brutal comment put it: 'We made the wrong person famous.'
Independent Singapore
10-06-2025
- General
- Independent Singapore
‘Is this really it for the next 30 years?' — Burnt-out Singaporean employee questions 'meaningless' corporate life
SINGAPORE: Noting that there have been many recent posts on Reddit where many say they want to quit their jobs, one user on the platform shared their experience and perspectives, saying that while they've only been working for around five years, they are feeling 'immense' exhaustion and burnout. ' Sunday blues is an everyday feeling for me,' wrote u /Main-Switch9765 in a post on r/askSingapore on Tuesday morning (June 10). ' The little joy of the weekends gets instantly extinguished once I look past it and see that it may very well be another 20-30 years of being trapped in a cycle like this. The futility of it all frightens me. I'm afraid that this is all my life will amount to at the end of it. I cannot imagine living feeling like this perpetually for the next 30 years of my life,' they wrote, adding, 'I don't feel any joy or meaning at work at all.' They described their work as a 'typical corporate office job,' which they find 'meaningless.' Moreover, they don't enjoy any part of their work processes and have no desire to be part of the rat race, as a 'decent paycheck' is enough to satisfy them. The post author has endeavored to shift their mindset to help them cope, including thinking 'work is just work' or 'work to support doing the things that you enjoy,' but added that 'none of it works as it all circles back to my fear that it's a never-ending marathon that I do not see the light at the end of the tunnel of.' They also underlined that they have a full life outside work, with friends, family, and hobbies, and a cat that is their 'pride and joy' whom they share with their partner. But with life taking up so much of their time, the moments they have to enjoy these things feel too short. 'I work long hours and reach home late,' they added. While u /Main-Switch9765 is aware that they should find work that they actually enjoy, they wrote that they haven't yet found the 'passion' that they want to commit to, and they're afraid that if they do so, they'll end up just getting burned out again. 'But perhaps I am too deeply entrenched in this way of living that I am unable to see beyond alternative ways of life. I'm not sure if I managed to express my sentiments accurately, but I'm not here complaining, yet I'm not willing to do anything about it. My greatest fear is that there is nothing that can be done and this is what all there is to the average adult life in Singapore,' they wrote, asking commenters to share their 'honest opinions.' Judging from the upvotes and comments on the post, many workers in Singapore feel the same way. 'I feel you. The way you described the 'dread that never quite goes away' hits hard. The scary part is not even the work itself, it's the realisation that that might just be it for the next 30 years,' one wrote. Others offered advice, such as finding another job with a better working environment. One wrote that at the end of the day, workers need to prioritise their well-being. Making sure one's needs are met is something each person needs to do, as this is something no boss will do for their employees. The commenter encouraged the post author to disconnect after work and go slow in their career progression. 'Your career is a marathon for 40 years. Not a sprint… You need to find a pace where you can sustain. Don't burn yourself on both ends of the candle and burn out. Focus on your own goals and targets that you know you're able to sustain in this marathon. You don't need every promotion or every pay increment or maximum bonuses to be happy,' they advised. /TISG Read also: Man who applied for 'countless roles' is feeling job search burnout, asks if he should take a break
