Quote:
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Originally Posted by The_Jazz
Every day I'm in the office. Cold calls. Each and every one is a "fuck it, I don't care anymore" moment. It's like asking pretty girls out, only you get to do it over and over, all day long.
I could tell heart-rending stories about when I was a runner and thought I was going to die, but those are all just cases of my body not knowing what it was talking about than anything that matters.
I think I've successfully redefined the spectrum of this thread with Crompsin and cj2112 at the "cool" end and myself at the "lame" end. As per usual.
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Wow....I am seriously flattered.
While it's true that life kicked me in the teeth repeatedly for a while, my children kept me sane. I had to look those kids in the eye every day. They looked to me to know that every thing was going to be alright. Though I wasn't sure that I was gpnna be ok, and inside I was terrified of the hand that life had dealt me, they NEEDED me to be ok. I held their futures in my hands. I had no right to give up. It was that knowledge and that responsibility that kept me going. It wasn't that I was sort of superman or better than anybody else, as a matter of fact, through most of it, it took everything I had to maintain some form of composure and normalcy. I wanted to freak the fuck out, I really did. I could not do that because I owed those kids better than that. Seriously, it was them who pulled me through it.