My baby sister, Bow, works at a bank. Last week her bank was robbed. At gunpoint (who has guns? in the suburbs?) My little sister is the most timid, non-confrontational person you could imagine. She is quiet and shy and gentle. Her husband (okay so I said she's my baby sister but she's actually 21) is out of town this weekend so she's moved back in with my parents. My sweet little sister is too afraid to be in her own house.
I can't imagine being too afraid to do my job. I've been too tired to do my job. Too annoyed, too frustrated, too sick. Never too afraid.
I feel so indignant. How dare someone come in to her place of work and take what's not his? Not the money - who cares about the money - but her sense of security. Her peace of mind. Her confidence. I am livid for Bow.
I also feel conflicted. I can't help but feel pity for someone who is so desperate that they have to rob a bank. I'm finding Christmas a bit of a financial strain this year and I have a job that pays me well. I can't imagine being unemployed at this time of year. It wouldn't drive me to rob a bank though.