It couldnít have been that easy, of course. If I want something done, and I canít do it myself, I just have to ask for help. Thatís what everyone tells me, but when it comes down to it, where are they? I canít get them on the phone, and they wonít respond to a faxed plea. Iím stranded on the cliff while the sands trickle through the hourglass. Or egg timer or whatever.
It makes a person feel a bit ineffective, if you know what I mean. Itís not just that nobody responds. Itís not that at all, really. Itís more that nobody feels that they have any reason to respond. I donít want someone to help me because they think I have clout, whether I have any or not. I want them to help because I matter enough for them to take the trouble to make an effort, even if it isnít exactly convenient.
Because, you see, thatís what Iíd like to think I would do for them. Iím not asking anyone to stop harrowing the fields and help me hunt for a nickel. They have something I need. It would cost them nothing more than a little time and even less effort to give it to me. And yet, here I sit. Still waiting. With the deadline rushing toward me like a train in a tunnel.
Itís dark in here, all by myself. And those lights headed this way donít seem all that friendly.