My daily commute to my office in White Plains, NY is about an hour to an hour and a half, depending on traffic. Occasionally, I am permitted by the powers that be to commute instead to our Milford, CT office, which is - on a heavy traffic day - ten minutes away from my apartment.
The problem is that I'm forced to choose between my sanity, and the time I lose driving my car down the Merritt Parkway.
There's this woman at the Milford office, who sits within earshot of the only real place where I can grab a network jack, who doesn't... shut... up. She must live this horrible sad life because she bitches about every single thing, it could be the temperature of the coffee, and it'd be a big deal to her. I pity the poor woman who has the cubicle next to her. For me, it's once a week or so, but for this poor woman, it's every damn day. A lot of us worry that she'll end up quitting just to save her own sanity.
