I would like to think that people take care of each other because they want to. I especially want to believe that my inclination to nurse, encourage, and tough-love others in their down and out moments has no relationship to earning similar treatment when I need it. However, when I am sick, sad...there is an ugly, green touch of resentment that creeps up and out of my chest. It whispers, "I would do it for you," but often says nothing out loud. This hand, unfortunately, helps me to figure out with whom I have a reciprocal relationship.
Slapping the hand, I wonder:
Do we all need to be taken care of sometimes? Even if we can make the soup ourselves, do we need to FEEL taken care of?
Looking at the pile of work on my desk and considering my inability to ask for help when I need it, I decide that this query is of no current value to me and move on.
Wondering where my high-five is won't write my SOP.