Apex, Inc.

We do ordinary work in an ordinary way. The details are not important enough to put here, and if they were, they would probably change before you finished reading them.

This page exists because pages sometimes exist. It is not a product, a pitch, or an invitation. You may read it or not. Nothing follows from either choice.

Updates

Occasional sentences. Not a blog. No feed. No schedule. No author photos.

On the texture of Tuesday

It continues to behave like a Tuesday. We have no further remarks at this time.

Regarding the hallway

The hallway remains where it was. Movement through it is still possible in both directions, though not simultaneously.

A brief note on alignment

Everyone is aligned in the sense that no one has said otherwise out loud. We consider this sufficient.

Clarification on scope

Scope is what it is. If it were smaller it would be less, and if it were larger it would be more.

Essays

Titles only. The essays themselves may or may not exist in another room.

Thoughts on the middle of things
Why the light looks that way in the afternoon
A taxonomy of waiting
On folders that are never opened
The social life of margins
Remarks toward a theory of almost
In praise of the unremarkable
What silence is doing when you are not listening
Notes on the color of paperwork
Several observations, loosely held

Field notes

It is often the case that the thing and the description of the thing occupy different rooms.

Someone left a cup. The cup is still there. This is not a problem until it is.

Most problems, when named carefully, become a different category of problem.

The meeting could have been shorter. It was not.

There is a preference for order. Order has not been defined.

About

A company-shaped arrangement of people and habits. We have been doing things for some time and intend to continue until that is no longer the case.

We do not maintain a public list of what we do, who we do it for, or where we do it. If you already know, you know.

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