Nikki was three months away from completing another roller coaster ride of a year fighting crime and working hard to change lives for the better. She was tired, mainly bsecause of having to deal with the bureaucratic bullshit that came with her commitment to the cause of making life better, whenever, and however, she could.
Nikki had long since abandoned the illusion that anyone above, or for that matter, equal to her in rank appreciated her efforts. She wasn’t saying that she was the only one who gets it; no, it was far from that. What she was saying is that most see this as a job.
An even smaller percentage see it as a profession, while she, herself, embraced it all as a calling—a quest to be the best. One of the first things she learned after taking on this quest was, she had to accept that it never has been and never will be about gratitude or thanks. If that was what she was looking for, she should be ashamed of herself and move on to something else. Maybe becoming proficient at saying, “You want fries with that?”
