76 and still freelance, you know? no benefits, gotta hustle. I still remember the steel-toed boots, size 9, and that orange hardhat. my voice would get… LOUD. a bellow, almost. 6:30 AM site briefing, always. 12 men, me. I adopted an almost aggressive prosody to maintain command. a counter-phobia, maybe? to my own quiet nature. anyone else feel like they constructed an entire, FALSE persona just to survive their working life? am I the only one who still hears that yell in my head, sometimes? and then, just… misses it? or the person I *had* to be?