Page 91 of Night and Day
“Just make sure you add some excitement. Really sell it.”
Guido– Mikko’s productivity app – was no Facebook, but it made great promises and hoovered new sign-ups at a steady rate (after the lunch time glitch, the counter on the big screen had been updating regularly). Its sophisticated AI engine learned patterns of successful job and university applications in any given field, and used this knowledge to guide the user towards the career of their dreams, harnessing every moment of their lives to improve their odds. The premise was simple – when studying or applying for jobs, most people lacked self-discipline and focused on the wrong things. They wasted time on unproductive hobbies, derailing them from their original goal. Mikko’s app was like a personal trainer who reinforced the user’s ‘right’ behaviours and thought patterns – all in the name of success.
Before her trip, Mia had appreciated the idea, aware of her own procrastination. When she’d tested the prototype,Guidohad advised her to swap her aimless guitar playing to weight training, to compensate for the gradual loss of muscle mass in her thirties. It made sense on paper, like exchanging chips for salad.
Now, she stared at the same pitch, her faith faltering. What if she needed her procrastination? What if she needed her music? Even if it never amounted to anything resembling a career, her soul would wither without it.
“What’s with the face?” Mikko’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You always say you love pitching.”
“It’s not that. I’m wondering about the content... what we’re offering. Is it... attractive enough?” She picked at a hang nail, looking out the window.
“Why would it not be attractive? Who wouldn’t want success?” Mikko sounded flabbergasted.
“Yeah, that part is great. But our generation... many of us are already so tired, trying to get ahead. Telling people they’re wasting their time, that they have to optimise their life, do more... it sounds exhausting. Maybe it’s not the right message? Maybe we should spin it a bit differently, or add something to balance things out, like some mental health checks?”
Mikko blinked. “They tick that box in the beginning, it’s basically a waiver.”
“No, I don’t mean the terms and conditions. I mean, actually asking the user if they are okay. Maybe we could double-check that the goals they’ve chosen are the right goals for them. Ask them if life feels... meaningful.”
“I don’t want any ‘are you happy’ crap.” He huffed. “That’s not what we’re about. We offer results!”
“I didn’t say happy. I said meaningful!” Mia scowled. “What good is success if you don’t enjoy the journey? And what if you miss your true calling because you’re so busy chasing one goal that you don’t even notice another opportunity or talent you may have...”
Mikko folded his arms, raising his brow. “Whoa. Good to know the person selling our product doesn’t believe in it.”
Mia scratched her neck, feeling hot all over. “I’m sorry. I just need to work through these things and prepare for any curly questions the investors might have.”
“They’re not going to ask about existential issues. They’ll ask about revenue streams, the growth rate, the upcoming features... you have all that information, right?”
Mia nodded. He was right. But something about this bothered her like a tiny pebble in her shoe, hitting a nerve on every step. She took a deep breath, lowering her voice. “You’re right. The investors will probably only care about the financial stuff. But, does it bother you?”
“What?”
“Promoting this goal-chasing lifestyle that gets people to run faster on the hamster wheel. What if they burn themselves out?”
His brow knitted in confusion. “We have an exercise component. If your work or study is high stress, it suggests yoga twice a week.”
“Yeah. I get it. But do you ever wonder what you might miss in life when you’re just chasing one goal?” Mia glanced up, searching for a flicker of understanding in his pale blue eyes. She’d dated this guy. How could he not follow her?
Mikko tilted his head, his sandy buzz cut catching the overhead light. “People who think like that never get there. They get lost on the way smoking weed in their basement, listening to Pink Floyd.”
Fury built in Mia’s chest, swelling like dough. “Get where? What if you die trying – is it still worth it?”
He took a tiny step back, probably wary of the intense gleam in her eyes. “Isn’t it better to try than—”
“Is there a prize at the end?” She felt the heat building in her core as words poured out. “Do you get a stamp on your eternal passport if you achieved your goals and reached your full potential?”
Mikko’s gaze flicked to the side like he was actually considering the rhetorical question.
Mia threw out her arms. “No, there isn’t! You die. That’s the end, Mikko. You can race to the finish line all you want, but that’s not the point. The journey is the point!”
As she yelled the words at her ex boyfriend’s half-terrified, half-smug face, they sank in. This was what she believed. This was the reason she couldn’t do this job. And the reason she couldn’t work with him. Or be around him.
The latest song on the office playlist wound down and a distant sound of conversation caught her ear. Someone was speaking English downstairs.
“Who’s that?” She shifted towards the staircase. Thanks to the open office layout, the second level opened partially to the lobby, a balcony overlooking the reception.
Mikko followed her, a deep crease between his eyes. “It’s probably the focus group. Vesa is down there, he’ll look after them.”
