Can There Really Be a Dream Job?
Where does art fit into the 9-5?
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A few weeks ago I was at the post office dropping off a package in between work calls when I noticed a man frantically taping a box together (the whole thing was smothered in forest green duct tape). When he saw me come through the door — my package clearly ready to ship — he quickly hopped in front of me while continuing to rip strips of duct tape off the roll with his teeth. I rolled my eyes and checked my phone. I only had 15 minutes to ship my package and bike home before my next meeting. I let out a small sigh of impatience.
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