What Are My Rights If My Building'S Office Woke Me At 3 In The Morning?

I am born lucky. One can say I'm a money magnet. I'd even win a car when buying a can of soda. The company relies on the numbers I pick to win bids. We go from the brink of bankruptcy to the third-largest company in the city. Then, during a business trip, I casually buy a lottery ticket and win 3,000 dollars. The newly hired finance manager, Owen Pearson, immediately demands that I turn over the entire prize. When I explain that I bought the ticket with my own money, he flies into a rage. "Any profit generated during working hours belongs to the company! Who do you think you are? How dare you refuse to follow company policy? If you win three million dollars after work, that's your business. But if you win three dollars during work hours, that's company property!" I can't be bothered to argue with him, so I call the CEO's fiancée, Macy Sanford. To my surprise, she agrees with him. "He has a point. If the company hadn't paid for your business trip, you wouldn't have had the opportunity to win the lottery in the first place." Owen is even more smug as he orders, "Just hand over the money. The 3,000 dollars will be deducted from your paycheck, and we'll deduct another 30 thousand dollars as a penalty for embezzling company funds. That should teach you a lesson." I tighten my grip on the lottery ticket and say nothing more. One week later, the company participates in the biggest bidding project of the year. Everyone turns to look at me, expecting me to provide the winning numbers. I simply smile and say, "Sorry. I've already resigned. I have no obligation to fill out the bid proposal anymore."

After working overtime every day for a month, I finally completed an important code that could save my company. Five minutes into my break, my team leader, Fiona Smith, suddenly hit me in the head with her file. “Because you spent so much time in the office, our electricity bill this month has increased by 15 kWh! Do you see this office as a free air-conditioning supplier?” I was about to defend myself when she angrily pointed at my cell phone and tablet on my desk. “You’re charging your devices here? You should charge them at home! Aren’t you aware of the company’s current condition?” I could no longer hold back my anger. “Fiona, I’ve been working overtime. I’m not here doing nothing!” “Can’t you do overtime at home instead? For a fresh graduate, you sure know how to exploit the company’s resources. Who knows what other despicable things you might be capable of doing in the future?!” Fiona yelled. I stared at her twisted expression and suddenly chuckled. If only my parents had seen me working so hard over such a trivial matter. They would have immediately asked me to quit and work in their company instead. I grabbed the flash drive with the important code and called my secretary. “Jane, I’d like to purchase Galaxy Corporation, and I want it to be the best in the industry.”

Even though it's the New Year holidays, I'm still cooped up in the company while churning out the paperwork needed for the company's listing process. That's when my keyboard suddenly types a paragraph on its own. "Stop working already! Your boss is about to fire you, and yet you're still slaving away for his sake!" I'm stunned by the information I see. The keyboard goes on typing, "He said you only have a bachelor's degree. If not for the fact that you're a walking lucky charm, you wouldn't have gotten into this company in the first place! "Now that the company is in the process of getting listed, it's costing far too much just to keep you around! Even though you're being paid a high salary every month, you can't even provide the company with any value! "He intends to dismiss you the moment the company gets listed! Since it's the new year, new blood should be joining the company!" I've been holding my coffee mug the whole time. At that moment, I can feel my hands starting to tremble. For five years, the projects that I've manned never got into any problems. The final round of funding always came through. Even when we were choosing a new office, we came across the situation of an owner who was all-too happy to get rid of the building. I can say with great confidence that I'm 90% of the main reason how this company expanded from a tiny office to the entire building. To think that I'm the first person to be discarded right after my boss reaches his goal… I can feel my stomach twisting uneasily. Even my throat goes tight from the anxiety. Just as I'm about to leave, a few angry voices ring out in the office. "I'm an office chair! I'll break during the board meeting tomorrow and make sure that your boss falls right on his ass!" "I'm a printer! I'll make sure to print all the documents he wants with nothing but gibberish on them!" "I'm a coffee machine! Tomorrow, I'll whip him a special brew that ensures he will never get to leave the toilet bowl for the rest of the day!"

On the first day of work, my boss, Wayne Richmond, gives everyone a nice bonus to start the year. Some receive 100 dollars, while others receive 200 dollars. When it's my turn, all I get is a piece of A4 paper. The rent, the management fee, and the utility bills, all from last year, are printed on the paper. At the end, I see Wayne's bank account number listed there. Wayne just looks at me haughtily as he says, "Meredith, you took the liberty to take on overtime shifts that last for more than a thousand hours last year. But despite the long hours, you didn't really bring much profit to the table. "That's why you should be the one paying for the property fees and the utility bills, seeing as you've wasted so much resources. This shouldn't be an outrageous request, right?" When I try to argue with Wayne, he just waves a hand at me impatiently. "I'm already charging you the lowest rate. Hurry up and pay the bills. Don't delay the work hours for everyone." As I stare at the piece of paper, I just smile instead of lashing out at Wayne. Everyone in the company doesn't know that I'm actually the owner of the building this company is based in. That means Wayne is giving me, the owner, the bill that he's supposed to be paying. In that case, I shall be retrieving every single cent that I've spent on this company. I won't be playing nice anymore.

One of my roommates at the dorm was a competitive person. Whenever I studied, she would be anxious. If I opened a package, she would ask me what I was buying. She would also pressure me to tell her my whereabouts. There was even a time when I turned in my bed, she suddenly opened my divider curtain and asked me if I was secretly studying. I was literally going to go insane, but our nonchalant counsellor told me that I was overreacting. After that, I failed to secure a postgraduate position, but she managed to study overseas. When she returned, she became my supervisor. She told everyone she met that I was a very competitive person, and she kept assigning a lot of tasks for me to do. In the end, I died from overworking. When I opened my eyes again, I saw her get into my bed. I recorded the sound of pages flipping and turned on the night light. I played the recording for the entire night. If she wanted to be anxious and lose her sleep, so be it!

My father loved silence. He believed noise was the mark of lesser people, so he installed a decibel meter in our home. Speaking above 40 decibels meant that we would have to pay him 10 dollars, laughing above 60 decibels meant 50 dollars, and crying or throwing a tantrum was a serious offense at 100 dollars per second. The year I turned four, I fell and broke my arm. I did not make a single sound. I bit down so hard that I cracked two teeth, but I saved thousands in noise fees. He praised me for it and called me a "high-value child," one that was worth the investment. I treasured that compliment and observed the rules carefully, keeping the house wrapped in suffocating silence. Then came the stormy night a thief broke in. He had a knife and was creeping toward my mother as she slept, and I watched it all from the gap in the wardrobe where I was hiding. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shriek and wake my father, to do something, anything. However, my eyes drifted to the decibel meter on the wall, and my hand found nothing but an empty pocket. I did not have enough allowance. One scream would cost hundreds, and I simply could not afford it.