The minute motions of magnanimous Maximilian
Because what’s more annoying than try-hardy alliterations?
If you’re not following me on Snapchat, then you may be asking, “Who is Maximilian? Why is he magnanimous? Why are you using such a pretentious adjective?”
The answers to which are quite simple: Maximilian (or Max, as his friends call him) is the roly-poly — also known as a pill bug or doodle bug — that lives in the potted plant across from the receptionist; he is indeed a very noble creature; finally, I have an English degree that is unfortunately under-utilized in my work life. I gotta express myself somewhere, nawmsayin’?
However, if you are familiar with Max, then you know that he has become my beacon of sanity and amusement in an otherwise austere environment. I try my best to avoid speaking of office life on social media — half to save my hide for future employment, half because I work with confidential information— but viewers of my Snapchat have known him as my only work friend. Yes, a roly-poly.
I look forward to seeing him every morning, look forward to finding more yet-to-be-named roly-polies on the ground to join him in his ceramic abode, and worry a bit too excessively when he hasn’t surfaced all day. In fact, Max’s popularity has gotten to the point where my Snapchat viewers have questioned his absence when I fail to report on his whereabouts.
It’s strange the things you find solace in when your mind is numbed with corporate buzzwords and hectic deadlines, when your day-to-day consists of ways to “push the envelope” and how to “disrupt innovation.”
You may question how much better it is to anthropomorphize a roly-poly than to subscribe to business culture, but then you’d be mistaken! I do not actually believe that Max is a real person, but at least he provides more substance to my life than any discussion of synergistic revenue streams that will push a new sustainable paradigm.
But I digress.
Though Max has been there for me since I’ve started working here, I can’t help but think of the day I’ll have to say goodbye. Maybe it’s a little telling that my (questionable) sanity rests on the nonexistent shoulders of a minute armadillidiidae, but maybe it’s just me realizing that it’s the small things that get us through the day.
