When I was seven, I started my own business. It wasn’t the next Amazon, but for me, my lemonade stand was a serious enterprise. Each Saturday morning I ventured into the sun to search our backyard for lemons to sacrifice for my amazing lemonade. My hands would burn from the hours of cutting, slicing, and juicing, but I loved the repetitiveness of the process and the time I spent alone. Once it was mixed, I pulled my red, rusted...