PROLOGUE

 “I started working for Stan when I was about 17. We did remodel / construction type work of all sorts but always of a fine quality. I usually hated it. Loathed it even. Sometimes I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Stan was what I called at the time a workaholic. He was driven and obsessive. Serious about things like quality and deadlines. He was the type that must work to survive. Just to keep from drowning—in himself.

I, on the other hand, was not interested in such mundane notions as hard work, responsibilities or accomplishments of these sort at all. I was anxious and odd. A man-child hyper-aware and uncomfortable. Especially under the watching eye of a perfectionist such as Stan. Just always ready for this excruciating workday to be finally over.”