It’s Friday evening here in New Zealand, and another work week has just reached the end of the line.
My commuting costs were nil, my conversations with coworkers and managers were limited to the comfortable arms-length of phone calls and email, and no one disrupted my work by demanding that I attend to their needs right now, like some sort of needy toddler.
To this slightly-reclusive introvert, it was bliss.
I honestly thought that he was going to pop a blood vessel and give himself a brain bleed or something. He was yelling and swearing and demanding that if someone has something to say, they should say it to his face.