Introduction Picture this: you, in your pristine business attire, meticulously assembled to convey an aura of success – pressed slacks, shiny shoes, maybe even a power tie if you're feeling extra daring. Now, visualize that perfectly curated image lighting on fire. Not a raging inferno, mind you, just a persistent, smoldering burn right around the seat of your pants. It's subtle, insidious, and smells vaguely of burnt ambition. Welcome, dear listener, to my world circa, oh... let's say five years ago. I wasn't an executive. Not even a manager, really. I was cog #3542B in the grand corporate machine, churning out spreadsheets, drowning in meetings, and generally being spoken to in a language only vaguely resembling English. Buzzword bingo was the national sport in those hallowed halls. "Jobs to be Done." "Disruptive innovation." "Blue ocean strategy." I'd nod earnestly, scribbling notes like my promotion depended on correctly parsing th...
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