The job was somewhere on Fourth Avenue. Evidently this was some time ago, as, although I was concerned about parking, I was certainly able to bus or walk.

No one ever explained to me exactly what it was that the company did to produce revenue. It was a gender-balanced workplace, and in the span I was there, I changed my desk assignment several times. My co-workers were all in their twenties, which made them seem young to me, although they did not appear to differentiate between my age and theirs.

The primary activity of the office seemed to be the careful documentation of plans, projects, and goals, in a manner not dissimilar to the import and precedence of whiteboard planning, note-taking, and meeting documentation in the technological workplace of the post-chalkboard era.

However, in this instance, the colloquial and collective documentation, hand-made, complete with jokes and doodles, was executed by the denizens of the workplace in various implementations of embroidery and fabric, at a rate approximating a quarter-bedsheet every week. At the end of the month, the preceding four intricately-sewn planning documents were meticulously sewn together and finished as something similar to, but not intended as nor to see use similar to, a quilt.

I never actually understood what the plans preserved in this manner represented. Over time, I have come to think that they likely represented the differentiation, procurement, and labor process and budgeting for the next week’s project.