In the old days, you went to work when the sun came up and you left to head home when the sun came down. Your wife packed your lunch and your relationship with your kids was a cursory grunting in their general direction on your nightly trek between the garage and whichever piece of living room furniture housed your liquor bottles. You did this for 25 years until “the workplace injury” and then you did it another 10. Then you were finished working and lived off the disability checks along with the fading hope that, at some point each week, the kids were going to call to say hi.
And then you fucking died and that was the end of it.
-Josh Brown in TRB