Finding the way from here to there is one of man’s oldest jobs. He’s quite good at it overall. In fact, had he not been proficient, your ancestry wouldn’t have produced you.

Now, man is cooped up in a cubicle, or best case a small box with a transparent glass window view of his old world. Now he’s asked to give long hours of “jumping on calls”, “circling back”, “thinking outside the box”, and chasing the “low hanging fruit” all in exchange for tiny green pieces of paper.

He’s standing in the shadow of his former glory.

For god sakes woman, let the man find the way today.