Cubicles

I found a draft of an observation about an old job.

I try to make my middle way through life around me, but it isn’t always easy. I suppose it is better somehow, than the path of least resistance, or the path of most resistance, and it is the middle between those two extremes that I struggle to straddle the most.

People who sit in cubicles behind me, they take the path of most resistance. Here I am with them, and it is nice to get along with the others. That’s what they are, though — others. What do I mean “they take the path of most resistance”? I mean to say that they are most resistant. Offer them sushi and watch what they do. They decide that this alien food is toxic to them. Its not that the food is distasteful, it is that they have a distaste for it. This is not a complaint that some people don’t like sushi. Many people dislike many things. Some people dislike most things, all but the familiar things, and the dislike is strong enough to cripple the experience of anything new.