Where is my conscience, you ask? Never had one. I’ve been too busy dressing wounds. Conscience is for cape-wearing amateurs who haven’t yet recognized that they are, at their core, just like me. Broken. Weary. Numb. Band-Aid toting. Come and get me, so-called heroes. Because I’m about to strap you to a gurney and apply an ice pack to your throbbing head. And the whole time I’m going to laugh while asking what your kid has been up to.journey-inline-newsletterinline-newsletter