just as he was about to start, his managing director (MD) strolled into his office and urged him to hit the road for home. he said to him, hey, idehen, it's 8pm; why not round off and go home. his reply was brief: thank you, sir, for the advice.
idenhen hated the idea of being compelled to stop work because of time. he was, therefore, always not conscious of time whenever he was immersed in his work. he simply waved off his boss advice and continued to work.
at exactly 9p.m idehen was done. steppong briskly out of the office, he hopped into his car, a blue hatchback, and zoomed home. no sooner he burst into his living room than the long hours of work gegan weighing him down. he became sleepy. he sensed the had some text messages, but before the could reach his smart phone, he crashed onto the sofa and snoozed off like a baby. he lay there for several hours. when his eyelid fipped open involuntarily, it was the wee hours of the morning.
