… sat in the Chicago airport waiting for a plane home.

There was a guy near me at the gate, about my age, talking on the phone.

He was ranting about “John,” who (apparently) had “taken over the meeting,” “worked his agenda,” “blew up the project.” Stuff like that.

He was unhappy. And stressed. And tired.

All I kept thinking was how glad I was that I no longer had a job and all the politics that goes with it.

It can be scary to be a solo, but at least we get to focus on things that matter.