A few summers ago my younger brother called me midmorning on a weekday. Being that summer is northern Wisconsin’s busy season, I knew something was up. He shakenly recounted that he’d been in an accident in his work truck. He was fine, but needed to vent.
He admitted to texting while driving and that he knew it wasn’t right, but his point of contention was the expectation of constant communication while working. He couldn’t keep up with the need to constantly answer calls and text messages from the office and drive; no one can. No one was hurt in the accident,
