If you hump away at menial jobs 360-plus days a year, does some kind of repetitive injury of the spirit set in? I don’t know and I don’t intend to find out, but I can guess that one of the symptoms is a bad case of tunnel vision. Work fills the landscape; coworkers swell to the size of family members or serious foes. Slights loom large, and a reprimand can reverberate into the night.
