“Sam, the printer is out of toner. I need you to run down to Office World and get a new cartridge.”

Sam nearly jumped out of his seat as I started my sentence. By the time I had finished he was breathing quickly, his face was flushed, and beads of sweat were forming on his brow.

“Sam? You with me, buddy? Printer. Office World. You hear me, Sam?”

He started to stammer.

“You w-w-want m-m-me to go?”

I nodded.

“B-b-but I have to finish these TPS reports, Andrea in accounting needs these forms by four, and Jack asked me to prepare a presentation for next week’s meeting,” he managed to push out.

“Sam,” I said patiently, “it’s two miles away. You’ll be back in 15 minutes. I give you permission to be late on those reports. Just go.”

His whole body slumped like someone had just dropped a sandbag onto his shoulders. He sat and stared a hole into the floor.

“You’re mad, aren’t you?”

“I am not,” I responded.

“I’m going to be fired,” he sighed.

“Sam.” He looked up. “Just go.”