A year ago, Jamie was working 60-hour weeks as a software developer in San Francisco.

“Congratulations, you’ve been selected for the six-month research position at McMurdo Station.

Last month, Sara, a senior software engineer with eight years of experience, found herself in what should have been a dream scenario.

I remember the first time I watched Mobile Suit Gundam as a teenager.

Last month, I watched as my colleague—a talented developer with fifteen years of experience—stared at his screen in disbelief.

Three months ago, I found myself staring at a to-do list that seemed to grow longer each day despite my best efforts.

I was 26 when I found myself sitting on my apartment floor, surrounded by job rejection emails, a half-eaten pizza, and the distinct feeling that everyo…

Sitting on my apartment floor at 26, surrounded by job rejection emails, watching friends celebrate promotions on Instagram, and questioning every life …

The notification chimed for the fifth time that hour. ” My smartwatch vibrated insistently while three different habit apps competed for my attention.

The notification lit up my phone for the fifth time that day: “Don’t forget to meditate. ” I swiped it away with a familiar mix of guilt and frustration.

I stared at my running shoes, tucked neatly in the corner where they’d sat untouched for three weeks.

Three years ago, I found myself working 70-hour weeks, perpetually exhausted, and still falling behind on deadlines.

Last month, Sarah, a software developer at a Fortune 500 company, received an all-staff email announcing the end of their remote work policy.

As I sat in my university office in Nairobi reviewing the latest call for papers from IJCAI-ECAI 2026, my excitement quickly turned to disappointment.

The conference room erupted in applause as Marcus accepted his “Employee of the Year” award.

The conference room fell silent as Maya stared at the promotion announcement email. For the third time in two years, she’d been passed over.

When Jamie hit her three-year mark at a leading tech company, she found herself in a familiar but frustrating position.

When Sarah hit her five-year mark at a prestigious marketing firm, she found herself in a paradoxical position.

It was 11 PM on a Thursday when Mia finally closed her laptop. Another emergency fixed, another crisis averted.

I watched as Marcus, our lead developer, demonstrated the automated workflow system we’d spent six months building for our biggest client.

At 45, she had accumulated the mythical “number”—the financial cushion her advisors insisted would allow her to retire early and live comfortably for de…