I once had a seventy-five-minute one-way commute to work. It was a truly exhausting journey tacked on to the beginning and end of my typical twelve-hour days in the office. I quickly came to dread having to be on the road by 5:30 every morning, and only agreed to do so because it was a condition for receiving a major promotion.
But after two years of being a resentful road warrior, my boss shocked me by saying I needn’t make the trip every day anymore. She said it was perfectly fine if I worked from home one or even two days a week.
And, just like everyone else who, over the past eighteen months, was suddenly gifted with more time to sleep, exercise, eat meals with family —and permitted to avoid a crushing rush hour experience twice a day—I was euphoric! I immediately began to fantasize about how great it would be if I never had to make that onerous drive again.
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