I’m not sure if it’s always been this bad, or if I’m just seeing it more clearly these days—but the sheer level of dishonesty in business, politics, and pretty much everywhere else is exhausting. And yeah, I’m disgusted.

What pushed me over the edge recently? A furniture store. Not just any furniture store—one that’s been dragging my elderly mom through a ridiculous saga of bad service, broken promises, and bureaucratic nonsense.

We finally filed a complaint with the Maryland Attorney General’s office. And wouldn’t you know it? Suddenly, this store found the time and creative energy to draft a long-winded, dismissive response. It wasn’t even polished—they couldn’t be bothered to spell my mom’s name right. That tells you everything. If they put half the effort into solving the actual problem as they did into trying to cover their own ass, they might actually run a decent business.

But of course, that would require caring. Or even better—earning their position, not inheriting it. From what I can tell, the current CEO had the business handed to them. That entitlement shows. There’s no hustle, no accountability, just a performative attempt to save face.

And it’s not just them.

Across the board, this kind of behavior has become normalized. Executives frame layoffs as “workforce optimization” while padding their bonuses. Politicians talk out of both sides of their mouths and call it leadership. Everyone’s too busy curating their image to actually do the right thing.

It’s spin over substance. Optics over integrity. And if you dare call it out? You’re labeled “difficult,” “angry,” or worse—ignored.

I’ve worked in tech and business long enough to know that storytelling is part of the game. But somewhere along the line, we stopped distinguishing between storytelling and straight-up lying.

It’s not just disappointing—it’s dangerous.

Because trust isn’t just some soft, feel-good ideal. It’s infrastructure. And when it breaks, everything else starts to rot.

So yeah, I’m tired. I’m frustrated. But I’m also not done speaking up. If my mom can get gaslit over a simple furniture purchase, what’s happening on bigger stages, in more powerful rooms?

The truth still matters. Even when it feels like no one’s listening.