Views from the Sixteen

349 days to go until my deadline.

In these first 16 days, I haven’t written much about the progress of my business venture. That’s partly because I don’t think you want to hear me repeatedly extol the virtues of wearing sweatpants to work (it’s…exactly as good as you think) and partly because I’ve been pushing to get a bit of groundwork done before speaking openly about what The Big Idea looks like in real life. If I were to hit a major roadblock in these very early days that forced me to change course, better that I not have laid out a big hypothetical blueprint from which I’d then need to do a lot of backpedaling. Having said that, I’m happy to report that – so far – I’ve hit no such roadblocks.

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The Big Question

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It’s been several days since I wrote about The Big Idea and since then I’ve promised on a couple of occasions that I would eventually tackle the reasons behind it. In that time, I suspect that any readers who care about me have been worried that I’ve come completely unhinged, and anyone who’s just here for the spectacle is hoping I have… Rather than speculating one way or another, I’m inclined to let you decide for yourself. This post is my attempt to answer The Big Question regarding The Big Idea:

Why?

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A Heavy-Handed Analogy Concerning The Author’s Present Circumstance

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Franklin: “Happy to have you aboard! I think you’re really going to love it here.”

Isaac: “Me too! I’m excited to join the team!”

The two shook hands in a symbolic consummation of their professional relationship – the gesture to make spiritually official what was already ‘official’ in a more literal sense. Franklin held the signed employment agreement in his left hand, smiling as he cordially showed Isaac to the exit with his right.

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Selling Out

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If the title of this post conjures up images of Tickle-Me Elmo, Furby or any other consumer craze for which people have had “the crotch yanked out of [their] brand-new jeans“, I think that’s a good start. Granted, I have no interest in causing personal injury, nor is this blog of much comfort as a cuddle buddy (trust me – I’ve tried). But while we don’t actually need to leave a wasteland of trampled mullets in our wake, that’s the kind of energy we’re after here. Ideally, I’d like to know that if the survival of this website depended on at least one of its followers administering a People’s Elbow in a crowded Walmart in December, you would all wake up the next morning to a steaming heap of new WCP content. Not asking you to do that now, but think about it – just in case…

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Decasshole

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At the outset, nearly a fortnight ago, I speculated that a half-dozen posts might be enough for my ramblings of futility to be outpaced by the futility of my ramblings. I’m here to report that I’ve blown that mark out of the water: still standing, 10 entries in! Such a monumental achievement deserves proper acknowledgment; after all, no self-respecting corporate citizen misses an opportunity to exaggerate the magnitude of an accomplishment.

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A Phone Call from God

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With relatively little in my workweek requiring my full intellectual investment, I have a fair bit of capacity left over for wandering thoughts… Say, for example, the kind of capacity that might yield an online diary of musings about office life. Related to that, I spend a good portion of my excess mental energy – as a defense mechanism, maybe – trying to deconstruct what, specifically, about my work environment that I find baffling. In speaking with others who’ve never slogged through white-collar obscurity, I often find it difficult to articulate the types of things you see here that make you want to forward your calls and retire to a simple life, subsisting off as much packaged ham as you can slam into your face before supermarket security takes you down in aisle 3.

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An Elephant in the Lunch Room

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More than likely, the fact that I’m sensing an elephant in the room at this nascent stage of WCP is evidence of my possible tendency to overthink things*, as opposed to a reflection of anything that anyone reading this might be feeling. I mean, at a point where quite literally the only other person I’m certain is reading this is my mom (hi, Mom), chances are slim that anyone out there is freaking out over whether I’m going to address anything at all. But I rented this (free) auditorium so I could hold the microphone and babble to a bunch of empty seats, so here goes.

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