The alarm on my phone woke me at five. Bleary-eyed, I sat up on the couch, stiff in too many places to count, and still weary. My head hurt something fierce, but I was used to that. It was all par for the course in my daily life, which probably wasn’t all that healthy.
I had to be at work by seven to start on my next deadline. There never seemed to be an end in sight to the fires to be put out, the financial crises to fix, and pacifying my superiors was like herding sheep—practically pointless.
I went to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. Afterward, I shaved at the sink. I was a tall man, pretty big and intimidating to most people. But for me, when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see gray eyes and blond hair or the dimple in my chin. I only saw someone I hated more than life itse
