Crazy Person

That’s me. I’m that guy now. I’m the minority opinion, the crazy old man, the guy who sees things that not many others do.
What happened to me? Did someone pass out a magic potion that I forgot to drink? Was there a ceremony where rose-colored glasses were handed out and I didn’t check my email that day?
Sorry to be a downer, but every single day something unfair or horrible or scary or negligent or unprofessional or questionable is brought to my attention, and it makes me want to go into a corner and weep. I can’t write those things yet, but I come home each day a little more tired and question my purpose and ability.
It’s Friday. Time to cheer up and turn off my brain from running through what is happening to me and my friends.
I will read the letter a student wrote me yesterday–giving it to me for no reason other than to say thanks for being me. Maybe I’ll read it more than once.