Evolution, huh?
It’s given us fire, Wi-Fi and the inexplicable ability to binge entire seasons of reality TV in one sitting.
But it’s also done something sneaky to our brains: it made them smaller. Yep, you read that right. Over the eons, our noggins have been downsizing like X soon after Elon Musk bought it and turned it into X.
That’s why you saw Donald Trump babysitting Elon’s kid during his campaigns and early days in the oval office. Yup, he has a smaller brain. Just like you.
And why?
Because of something called the externalization of knowledge.
Sounds fancy, right? It just means we humans got smart enough to stop cramming every factoid into our individual skulls and started leaning on the collective brain — think libraries, Google Docs, and that one coworker who actually knows how to fix the printer.
But here’s the kicker: this whole “collective brain” thing falls apart faster than a cheap folding chair when you hit the office.
You know the drill. Every job interview, without fail, someone asks, “Are you a team player?” And we all nod like bobbleheads, chirping, “Oh, absolutely! Love me some teamwork!”
Meanwhile, back at the cubicle ranch, it’s every man, woman and coffee mug for themselves.
Enter Grater—yes, Grater, like the kitchen tool you regret buying from a discount store.
This guy was the human equivalent of a solo jazz performance: flashy, confident and absolutely not taking requests. In fact, when you make a request, that is the one jazz piece that they will not play.
Grater had the kind of job that made everyone else’s eyes turn green. He jetted around the world representing our institution, mingling with big shots and building a social network that could make LinkedIn jealous.
Me? I wasn’t impressed.
Okay, fine, I was a little impressed, but only because he had the superpower of dodging meetings.
Those soul-sucking, could’ve-been-an-email marathons? Grater was out sipping espresso with clients while the rest of us debated font sizes for three hours.
Legend.
But here’s where the plot thickens, and Grater’s maddening mind takes center stage. See, that shrinking brain thing? It means we need each other to get stuff done. Grater, though? He was allergic to teamwork.
The man rode solo harder than a cowboy in a spagetti western.
For a while, it worked. He was a one-man show, closing deals and dazzling clients. But then the institution grew, and Grater climbed the corporate ladde, hitting his large head yet small brain right into a brick wall.
Suddenly, his lone-wolf act wasn’t cutting it.
Deadlines slipped, schedules imploded and his performance started doing the limbo under an already low bar.
Cue the office gossip mill, churning out rumors juicier than a tabloid.
“Oh, Grater’s marriage is crumbling!” “His parents are overbearing!” “He’s secretly training to be a professional yodeler!”
The wildest part? Grater started those rumors himself.
Apparently, admitting he needed help was scarier than letting people think he was one bad day away from
starring in a soap opera.
It’s the maddening mind, I tell you.
Eventually, HR had enough and sent Grater on a “long holiday.” Translation: “Please go figure yourself out.” And who got saddled with his workload?
Yours truly.
Now, I’m no people person—my idea of bonding is nodding politely while plotting my escape to my house.
But you best believe I faked it like a pro to skip those meetings. Suddenly, I was living the Grater life, minus the frequent flyer miles. It was glorious.
Then Grater came back, and oh boy, did the drama dial get cranked to eleven.
Of course he wanted his job back, exactly as he left it.
I, on the other hand, had grown fond of my temporary throne.
Sema tension, people.
Picture two stubborn goats butting heads over the last patch of grass. But here’s where the maddening mind gets a plot twist.
Through all the tussling, we stumbled into a revelation: a two-person department was better than a one-person circus.
Grater’s lone-wolf swagger paired surprisingly well with
my fake-it-till-you-make-it vibe.
We weren’t just surviving—we were thriving.
Our brains may be shrinking, and evolution might be pushing us to share the mental load, but the human mind is still a gloriously complicated mess.
Grater and I? We’re proof that even two stubborn, non-team-playing weirdos can accidentally make a team.
And that, my friends, is the maddening mind at its finest—small, quirky and just a little bit unhinged.
The Maddening Mind is an attempt to scribble my life, specifically through my experiences in the different work spaces I have been in, with some lessons, somewhere in the stories.
