Describe it as poorly as you can, but in a way that's still humorous! Let others try to guess what you do.
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Describing complex things to people that will never understand the thing
Down in the dimly lit cavern, amidst the glow of a thousand tiny lights, we orchestrate the ballet of the bewildered. We coax metal birds through invisible pathways, whispering sweet nothings into the void while simultaneously battling the existential dread of a blinking cursor. Our sustenance? The pungent aroma of freshly fertilized fungi, delivered courtesy of an unseen hand, a constant reminder of the grand, bureaucratic machine we serve.
Our days are a symphony of sighs and exasperated grunts, punctuated by the high-pitched wails of prima donnas convinced their personal chariot deserves immediate, preferential treatment. We are the silent shepherds of the sky, guiding flocks of temperamental aluminum beasts with nothing more than a few well-placed grumbles and the unwavering belief that, eventually, they'll all land somewhere. Just not necessarily where they think they're going.
I use liquids and tiny edible "machines" to produce billions of 300 letter words made of only 4 different letters, that I can view on my computer, to help make people I'll never meet less sick. If I'm lucky.
Biomedical Researcher, particularly sequencing.
My job is paying the people who are willing to scrub the toilets of rich, entitled a-holes who can afford to hire other people to scrub their toilets.
I have other tasks I perform as well (e.g., conveying the condescending, insulting demands of aforementioned rich, entitled a-holes unto the people who will be scrubbing their toilets.)
I also have to mediate/deal with the (surprisingly frequent) times that the aforementioned a-holes expect "extra services" and expose themselves to the people scrubbing their toilets.
I write the recipes for meals people say they want, but when the cooks prepare the food, the customers invariably complain that what they asked for wasn't what they wanted.
Stuff gets dirty. I wash it. It gets dirty again. I wash it again. This repeats over and over many times a day for thousands of things. The only reason I have my sanity is that at the end of each month they kindly throw some peanuts in my direction. But the relative value of those peanuts is slipping, and so is my sanity.
I entertain thousands of people by playing the same 300 songs over and over again then encourage them to spend their money.
My job mostly involves juggling chaos while maintaining the illusion of calm. I spend my days glued to 4 different screens, deciphering cryptic updates like “it’s bad” into actual emergency responses, and directing specialist teams like HART, air ambulances, and occasionally, the office plant. Fluent in medical acronyms, Excel sorcery, and the ancient art of controlled panic, I make snap decisions based on half the facts and a strong gut feeling. Multitasking includes managing major incidents, comforting colleagues mid-crisis, and consuming a questionable amount of biscuits. If something’s going wrong somewhere, chances are I’ve already heard it through six different channels and am “looking into it” while my headset slowly fuses with my skull. It's part logistics, part improvisation, and entirely fuelled by caffeine and mild hysteria.
Emergency Operations Centre (EOC) Coordinator? I am in awe of such jobs.
My sister goes out of her way to annoy children between the ages of 5 and 13. If they don't get annoyed, she gives them a sticker. If they do get annoyed, she annoys them some more to prepare them for annoying people and illogical societal rules.
I see actors in their underwear every day.
In reversal, I know a man who jokingly calls himself a 'cartyouologist,' as he mostly moves patients on beds or in wheelchairs, around in the hospital.
Visually creating exactly what was agreed upon to only have it come back for changes over 30 times by the very same people who originally gave me the project's specs, text and image requirements. Once approved and complete, the project goes to vendor only to have the order cancelled and a new project opened to make further changes because the person who originally opened the project didn't actually look over the final version of the original and noticed things they want changed once they received a proof from the vendor.
Speaker to Computers, building the floors that others will stand on, and shoring them up when needed.
My role is like the trainer of invisible guard dogs for our manufacturing operations. I build and train security barriers, detection systems, and protocols so that if someone tries to enter through the digital back door and sabotage the production of our products, my invisible 'dogs' bark, bite, and don't let anyone unauthorized through. Basically, I'm the one who ensures the factory always produces what it's supposed to, and nothing else!
How funny, we actually have an internal joke for this at my job: "paperwork princess" is what they call any kind of office-administrative position. I just own it. 😁
I use a gun to shoot "bullets" into clothes and tell people where they can toss their c**p.
When I was in the Air Force women were referred to as a WAF (Women in the Air Force). Men that worked as a secretary were called titless WAFs .
I talk to people over the phone to help them with appointments.
It's like herding cats, but not cats.
I am equal parts actor, time-traveller, ogre, fairy godfather, storyteller, mentalist, therapist and drill sergeant. With a glare, a smile and a story I can herd cats, tame lions, lead wolves and make sheep roar.
I will make you fall in love with my favorite book, show you the horrors of the past and the uncertainty of the future. I will give you a couple of feathers in your wings and send you flying... if you let me. But I will not fly with you.
I will show the door, but I am not going to cross it for you. I will give you knowledge, but how to use it will depend on you. I will try to guide you how to think, but not like me.
Yes, I am a teacher.
" ."
I ask you for your most personal information and documents and you have to give it to me or I will fire you.
I'm a master of the magic juice that supplies what you need to be able to read Bored Panda articles. Without it your machines are just lumps of lifeless plastic and metal...
I get paid to tell other people what to say, how to say it, and when to say absolutely nothing at all. My job is mostly:
- Turning corporate gobbledygook into sentences that sound like a human wrote them.
- Writing emails for the CEO who still thinks “Reply All” is a private diary.
- Saying “Let’s circle back” 14 times a day.
- Rewriting a press release 19 times because someone suddenly hates the word “synergy.”
- Making bad news sound... less bad. ("No, it's not a 'massive failure,' it's a 'strategic pivot with learning opportunities.’”)
I am a crisis firefighter with no hose—just a keyboard and a very tight smile. When something goes horribly wrong (like someone tweeting from the company account thinking it was their personal one), I am the one who has to clean it up using only words, emojis, and caffeine.
My best skill? Writing a speech that sounds heartfelt... for someone who has no heart (usually a senior executive).
In short: I am a professional human buffer between chaos and the public—and somehow still manage to smile in meetings.
Help me. I am unalived on the inside.
I ferret out secrets, find out things about you that you didn't tell me. I find things - lost things. I make numbers tell me things.
Accountant.
I cruelly force sub-adults to endure learning information the state of Ohio legally required us to provide them with at their age. The complementary meals are inadequate, and why can't I just leave them alone to play on their computers?
During the summer, I provide nutrition to hordes of sunburnt youths, while constantly reminding them to use the serving utensils. Summer camp kitchen staff.
I provide the sustenance that humanity and other beings live off. I raise and nurture these precious green beings from when they are babies. When they are adults I cut them off and they provide sustenance both for four legged and two legged creatures
I babysit adults and make man-children feel like they're in charge, while cleaning up their mess for the people who are really in charge.
I walk around on a field with a thirty-pound lump of metal on one shoulder while:
-remembering and playing entire pieces of music
-remembering where I’m going and the steps I need to take to get there
-trying not to put the wrong foot in front of the other or go the wrong way
-trying not to drop the big metal thing even though it’s hèll on my back
I play the tuba (contra) in a marching band. If somebody tells you that marching band isn’t a sport, they’re very wrong.
