I left work today exactly on time, actually a few minutes early, and I felt this distinct sense of guilt, not a moral failing or anything, but a peculiar internal reaction and I could still hear my employees, good people, really, talking about their kids and childcare nightmares and the sacrifices they make and how they’re going to be late picking them up and I just walked right past them, punched out, and drove home to my quiet suburban house and honestly, it felt pretty fucking good not to have any of that, not to have that constant demand, and I felt a bit of a prick, an asshole, for feeling that way, but I did, and I still do.