On lacking inspiration
Sometimes I feel like my job is like playing clean-up, as if everyone here sees a kid standing on some railroad tracks, with a train screaming toward him at breakneck pace, and usually one of them has either told the kid to go play on the tracks, or has gotten him there by some massive feat of ignorance.
When I point out that the kid is going to be flattened by the train, they shrug their shoulders in unison and say, "he's not my kid."
Then it is me who has to clean his blood, guts, and gore from the ground, but also to notify his parents of what occurred.
And at some point I just want to go, you know what? It's not my kid, either.
When I point out that the kid is going to be flattened by the train, they shrug their shoulders in unison and say, "he's not my kid."
Then it is me who has to clean his blood, guts, and gore from the ground, but also to notify his parents of what occurred.
And at some point I just want to go, you know what? It's not my kid, either.