#simlie

A kid in a candy store, is like me in a bookstore.

Writing is like teaching kindergarden, I imagine. They line up perfectly for pictures, or lunch, perhaps. But then you try to teach them one thing, and before you know it, Suzy is sniffing glue, while Brandon bounces up and down in his chair. For a moment, you have a choice to make: stop Suzy and potentially let Brandon make a mess which you will have to clean up, or send Brandon to the bathroom, while Suzy passes out from the lack of oxygen. You decide, it doesn't matter one way or the other, but just before you go to take a step towards one of them, a child demands your attention from behind with a loud shriek. You look towards him or her, at this age, it's hard to tell even with the higher pitch, but by the time you're facing the right direction, the sound is gone and all the students are in their seats, waiting to be released for recess. They all go outside and you sit down, trying to remember what it was you were even intending to teach, and before you can think about it, you have to clean up the room becuase the students will be back in fifteen minutes, and the room looks like a hurricane went through it.