He walks up and takes over the conversation, hierarchy. He has about five years on me and is a professional. He chose law, I chose movie projecting. I had fun, he worked hard. How he is gone almost every day, fun, play, golf, travel. Behind, paid a fifth of what he makes, unmarried, no kids, no advanced degree. It makes me want to go into law. Two years from now be in his shoes. But then his shoes are ugly and I want more freedom. I want to worry less, not more. I want to write of love not law.