I loved my job,
and assumed that my
colleagues did, too.

Many
of them,

I later came to realize,
had loved their jobs,
and they had put professional
concerns ahead of personal ones.
But then after five or ten or fifteen years--
however long it took before they hit the glass ceiling--

their passion for work evaporated. Yet they were so entrenched that they couldn't imagine greener pastures: They began to resemble people in long, sad marriages who still sleep next to their spouses but never touch. But I wasn't aware of any of this during my first six months on the job. I loved the long hours! There was free coffee in the morning and Chinese take-out when you had to stay late! I had a key to the front door so I could work on weekends!