I’m the kind of person who shows up early with a second coffee in hand, just in case someone forgot theirs.
I’m not flashy. I do my work well, and I try not to step on toes.
For the past two years, there has been one person who’s regularly made me wonder if I’m losing my mind.
Her name is Joan.
Joan is 32, and one of those women who operates as if she’s in a Netflix dramedy about tech startups.
She’s always smiling and performing niceness as if she’s in an audition. Joan dresses sharply, but not too much in your face.
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