Like a lonesome cowboy with a leather-wrapped journal, I will compose many a silent email, detailing my woes on the Outlook trail.
The environment takes its toll. The long hours on your feet, the questions about where things are, all the ingredients involved in such a job...
You approach a crying person and ask what’s the matter. They say, “Nothing.” Seconds later that person is interacting jovially with a colleague.
There were days when it'd be hot outside and he'd wear a beanie, and not just a light one—stitched wool with snowflakes and reindeer patterns.