I walked out of the door this morning
Hoping to return to it bearing good news.
Today will be better, I thought.
Today will be good.
And since no one was in except me until 1pm,
It was a desperately good day.
I discovered the piano.
The other departments discovered me.
And so did the patients.
The art department and I found terrific joy in ink paintings on stretched paper.

Then it happened.
And it happened multiple times.
I'm not bloody daft.
So stop talking to me like i am.
I'm dead seriously considering quitting.
I might do it tonight.
I don't care anymore.
I don't want to be talked down to like I am an idiot.