We are one, we are the same

Under these fluorescent lights (where every zit we’ve had since birth simultaneously becomes visible), and within these gray, radio-factory-in-Russia walls we sit in prefabricated conformity. So similar are the cubes that I have, on my way back from the bathroom, actually sat down and started working at someone else’s desk. Couldn’t tell the difference (but I was in a decongestant haze).

So our individuality is limited to how we dress (except for the overall awesomeness of Lisa's fabric-lined cube walls). That is our statement of workplace nonconformity – an emphatic, solemn declaration that states: “I am me!”

But sometimes in our effort to be different we become the same.

With all the colors and styles of clothing available, statistically the chances of wearing the same thing to work as your cube mate on the same day are slim. But just like winning the lottery, or being Lee Harvey Oswald (who worked in a radio factory in Russia, btw), sometimes we’re in the right place at the right time – or the wrong time (depending on your point of view).

Some recent collisions of fashion:

A spirit of fellowship, eh comrades?