An older man came into the courthouse this morning as I was about to walk up the stairs. He was carrying an oxygen tank and was totally out of breath. I thought I heard him say “ma’am?” to me and look right at me as I walked by, but when I looked over at him to ask if I could help him, he wasn’t looking at me, so I kept walking. Only, as I went up the stairs, he asked someone else where he could find some department. I heard her give him directions and he thanked her and left.

I don’t know where half the stuff is in this courthouse, so I couldn’t have helped him. He got the directions he needed from someone who knew where to go. So all is well, right?

So why do I feel bad for not helping him?

ANGST!

Welcome to my brain.