I meet the others every day. I mean here the "others in my workplace." They are like family: you quickly get to dislike them, but like family, you cannot change them for others. Unless you run away from your family, which is the equivalent of handing in your resignation and moving to another company. Where you will find another family that you will dislike in a matter of months.
Why do we get to dislike ourselves so much, we, the people who give one third of their lives to be together in this common space we call workplace? Maybe the reason is in what I just said: because we give away one third of our lives to be together in this common space called workplace. We could do way more interesting things with this one third of our daily existence than just getting crammed into tiny cubicles, sweating over our screens that shell our brains with a barrage of information, hearing our neighbours scratching, coughing, mumbling or plain swearing, sometimes annoyed by their body odours, and for sure feeling their frustrations hovering in the air like fumes escaped from old car engines. But this is what people need to do in order to earn the right to spend the other third of their lives alone, in the comfort of their own households, far away of their fellow co-workers. I said the "other third", and the math didn't quite add up: two thirds do not make the whole. Yes, they do: the remaining third is the one you sleep through, and it doesn't matter. It's only organic recharge. It's just the process of refuelling, and getting re-capacitated for the other two thirds of your existence.
Yesterday, today and tomorrow are the same: the same workplace, the same tiny cubicles, the same people packed in like sardines, having to get along, to be nice to each other: real team players. But then there's always my cubicle, where I stash a few personalities (some people say "hats" instead of personalities, to show the lightness of this concept), each one adjusted to the "job requirements", which is a nice way to define the art of compromise that takes you through the day. From the wardrobe of my personalities, that gets bigger as I advance through my career years, I will choose two items: "I" and "me." These are the two profiles I use the most during my day of work. These are the inner selves I expose the most to my co-workers, of course.
"I" is used sparingly. This is my full blown inner-self, the full myself, standing tall, walking high, without the inhibitions of the political, diluting agents that need to remove the acid from the pool of my "ego." I use "I" only sometimes, when I cannot take it anymore and I have to snap out, have my saying. "I do not think this is the right thing to do," I found myself pounding my fists on the invisible table of conversation with my boss. "What makes you say that?" my boss inquires with a frown, and he barely refrains himself from doing what he likes doing the most: having an access of rage, and shouting out like a hysterical man: "How do you dare say that, you meaningless, abominably-insignificant-failed clone of a warm?" The "I" is the one that doesn't agree to things and loves to say that. This guy is the deal braker, the dissonant note in the hard trained chorus of "yes-sirees", a lame combination of mediocre tunes. The "I" is the dissident."I" stands for trouble-maker.
But there is always "me." "Me" means participation without questioning that goes deep down, and maybe hits the reason. "Me" is the surrender to the norm, the worshiper of the common place. Me and Derek finished the work, sir! Good work, lads! Which means that Derek did something, and I was there to do the remaining of Derek's something, wich means that none of us know the whole thing, only bits of it that may not even fit together. That's for the "I" to accomplish.
While "I" is bold and thorough, "me" is accommodating, shy, superficial, careful to avoid the conflict from fear of breaking the forcefully imposed, hence short-lived, harmony that imbibes any workplace with the strong odour of mediocrity."Include me in that meeting, please!" Which means that I'll be there, attending, but not willing to contribute.
"I" is brazen, but can be stupid, because it takes chances without thinking too much of consequences. "Me" is more conservative, observes the norm, thinks in advance of the fallout. Therefore "me" is smarter. It has that kind of smartness that takes you through day after day until the final gong: the retirement party (for the lucky ones.)
I like "I" but I'd rather use "me." "I do not think that this is going to work, sir" sounds less safe, even riskier than "Me and Derek will look at it, make sure it will work." But it could carry the truth.
Because after all nobody wants to hear your "I" talking: everybody prefers your "me." It's more accommodating. It's team work what everybody is looking for, not excellency. The excellency is left for fools or visionaries. Which many times are the one and the same thing.
