The random thoughts of an architect-turned- lawyer from the deep south living in Washington, DC...

Sunday, June 25, 2006

A tough place to be

In a room, on a table, exists something precious. Maybe it's a priceless crystal. Maybe it is an organ that will save a life. Maybe it's a vile holding the cure to cancer. Nevertheless, it is precious and needs to be cared for and treated with the utmost respect. Everyone is aware of its importance. The precious item is managed by a girl who one day decides to place the care if the item in your hands. Somehow, this fails to be communicated to you. So you go about your days in a normal way. You walk by the room numerous times, never having any idea you are responsible for the precious contents.

One day, you find out the item was broken. Everyone is livid. That same day you find out that you had been in charge of the item. Not only are they livid, but they blame you. You rush to the room immediately and begin to clean up the mess. You know it is not your fault. You know you should not bear the weight of the blame for this. But you know the damage is done. No matter how great of a job you do cleaning up this mess that you did not make, the damage is already done.