You're mid-sentence explaining why your boss is terrible when they glance at their phone, nod, and ask "sorry, what?" So you restart. By sentence two they're already checking the time. By sentence three they've somehow aged five years and developed a twitch. You finish your story about the meeting disaster and they look up with genuine concern: "Wait, are *you* okay?" No—I've just been performing Shakespeare for a brick with a charging cable.