I was on the phone the other day with Bill, who was lamenting the fact that his wife was angry that he hasn’t been to their vacation home in over three years. “I mean jeez,” he said to me. “How does she think I was able to afford the home in the first place? Doesn’t the woman realize I need to work?”
I had to chuckle. Here Bill was, logging 80-hour work weeks so that he could afford to buy things he didn’t have the time to enjoy because he was working so much. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?