October 1973
Wit's End
The point at which we change the things we can
IT WAS A HECTIC day at the office. Probably, it was no more hectic than any other Tuesday, but every phone call irritated me and every person approaching me seemed out to get me. This day, for some reason, the job was really getting to me. By 3:00 p.m., I was sure that I could not take another second of the place without running out to get a drink or a tranquilizer. I was at my wit's end.
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