She smiles gently and responds to the elderly lady’s question, but inside she’s counting the minutes until the conversation ends. Her teacher rambles on, telling her what an intelligent and gifted student she is, but deep down she wants to spit in the teacher’s eyes. Politely, she holds the door open for an upperclassman whose hands are full, but underneath the respectful gesture she breathes an impatient sigh. Although she kindly explains the math problem to the young student, she does not understand why the boy cannot do the easy problem on his own and in all her frustration, wishes she could shout at him. Quieting the toddlers’ screams gently, she wishes she could burst through the nursery doors, exasperated by the demanding children. Easily, she plays the piece of music, but she continues to glance at the clock, her focus waning. She listens considerately to her friend’s griping, but sick of playing the mediator, she wants to tell the girl off. Graciously, she asks, “How are you?”, but in reality, she could not care less. Week after week she follows the same routine, pretending to care, acting like the polite young lady she should be, and covering up her detached and reluctant attitude. And maybe she has everyone fooled. You’re such a jerk.