While waiting for the elevator this morning, I could hear the mailman around the corner filling each slot with bills and catalogs and whatnot. He was whistling while he worked. Literally cheerfully whistling while working on a Saturday morning.
He came around the corner and waited for the elevator with me. "I'm impressed. I have never been so content as to whistle while I work," I said to him. He chuckled.
"I like what I do."
I considered that for a moment, smiling and watching the numbers light up in succession as the elevator descended toward us.
"For the first 15 years of my career I could barely get out of bed in the morning to get to work," he said. "But for the past 13 years, doing this . . . I'm happy."
The elevator doors opened.