Forbidden fruit
While wondering why her son was climbing the walls after a week of working from home in Atlanta, Ga., my friend lamented: “He was frozen in Pennsylvania last year, working solo. Why should this bother him so?”
“It’s like the forbidden fruit,” I explained. “He doesn’t mind working alone or being isolated in Pennsylvania if he made the decisions that put him there. He just doesn’t want somebody else to say, ‘You can’t go anywhere you want to go, see anybody you wish to see, or eat anywhere you want to eat.’”
Suddenly, that’s all that matters.
