When I was 12 years old I spent the summer working at my father’s office, filing, stuffing envelopes, talking to the women who worked there, trying to absorb some of the secrets of being a grownup person who went to work every day. My father’s company was in the process of changing its name and one afternoon on the way home, my father informed me we needed to stop off at the Art Director’s studio to approve something to do with the new logo and whatnot. For one reason or another we ended up being there longer than expected, my…
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