Thursday, August 23, 2012

Chapter Eight: Two Broke Girls


Past quixotic failures haunted me. I couldn’t count how many times I’d followed my heart off a cliff, for men, for causes, for friendship, for colleagues, for stray animals. Human rights projects I’d worked on had broken down in petty personal politics and bureaucratic red tape, or led to everyone on the project being severely hacked.  Smaller efforts were no more successful. I’d tried to bottle-feed abandoned kittens, and once a premature puppy, only to see them die.  I was no good at doing good....