It's crazy, isn't it? The idea that, for years, we all would get up at 5 AM to commute an hour into a collective working area where we would then sit in our drab cloth square, surrounded by tens of other cloth squares. We would engage in meaningless interactions with fellow square inhabitants when cornered by them in communal areas and pass awkwardly by their cloth squares when making our fifth bathroom trip of the morning. Communication was done in code, a specific dialect that an outsider wou…