I stopped for a woman dying on the roadside and lost my job for being late, but when I came back for my desk, my whole life changed. “What the hell do you mean you were helping somebody?” – usnews

I nodded because she needed me to.

But inside, I felt like the floor had fallen out.

To understand why getting fired hit me the way it did, you have to understand something about me.

I wasn’t one of those guys who stumbled into a job because it was available.

I loved marketing.

Not in the fake, shiny, buzzword way people say they love things when they really mean they tolerate them.

I mean I genuinely loved it.

The puzzle of people.

The psychology of why one message gets ignored and another makes someone stop.

The chase.

The timing.

The feeling of pulling a client back from the edge with the right pitch, the right tone, the right story.

I loved all of it.

Some boys grow up wanting to be ballplayers or firefighters.

I grew up wanting to be like my Uncle Todd.

Todd was my mom’s older brother, all handshake and confidence, the kind of man who could sell ice in a blizzard and make you thank him for the favor.