One of my colleagues, a frisky, dear old man prone to wearing wool sweaters and tweed coats, whipsmart and full of ribaldry, stopped by my office this morning. No hello, no nothing.
"Do you ever think how damned lucky you are to be sitting there, listening to music, drinking your coffee, with nobody to tell you what to do, in your own cozy little space, there?"
"Everyday," I said. "Everyday."