Math was devised to keep girls down.
Wheat was devised to keep celiacs down.
Zantac was designed to keep acid down.
I can see I'm starting to wander here, so I'll reign it back in.
I want to talk cubicles. Cubicles? Yes, the grown-up equivalent of a big bowl of mind-numbing cold cereal. If you are among the lucky few who spend their days confined to beigy-gray views, you know what I'm talking about. Cubicle walls are what you get when a think tank comes together to answer these hard hitting questions:
- What is the optimal color (or non-color) to promote resigned defeat, without inciting homocidal rage?
- Can a pattern be incorporated in such a way as to mask or camouflage stains, ranging from bodily fluids to sweet and sour chicken glaze?
- What thread count would be needed to support the weight of a phone being thrown at it, full force, from a distance of 32 inches?
Or that's the way I used to feel, until the day I discovered that my walls could actually entertain me. Turns out some clever designer at the cubicle wall textile shop decided to pay us all a little favor by designing a pattern that could only be described as interpretive. Behold my cubicle wall:
At first glance, you're probably not impressed. But let me tell you this: listen in on a boring conference call long enough, and you will begin to see what I'm talking about. These are some of the images I've been able to detect in this wall of mine:
- a gnome
- a chinese dragon head
- a lady's face
- an owl
- a row boat