Things one isnt meant to know

I'm sitting in a Scooter's in Lincoln, looking at traffic. Listening to internet radio rather than the crappy country they had on when I first arrived. That was over 3 hours ago and I'm getting restless. So I'm blogging.

I haven't logged into this account in months and months.

I've had a very few photoshoots this past season and just a couple since spring broke. Now it's looking like summer's on its heels. Hot. The shoot before last was still cool. Shot with a lovely young blonde woman of 21 who has done a bit of nude modeling, which was a dismaying fact as it turned out because she's been asked to pose in some rather nasty ways. The only nasty thing about our shoot was the spiders under the bridge. We shot in golden hour and once that hit, it was all good. Her father is something of a lecherous "old man" of 50. He dates women her age and takes them shopping with his daughter. He hits on his daughter's friends too. And yet, she's afraid he would cut off her education money if he found out she had posed nude. Guess he's a hypocrite too.

Guess we're all hypocrites. Whitman said something about hypocrisy but I can't remember what it was... Remember he embraced it though. I'm about the least creepy amateur photographer around, and yet I cheerfully agreed to give this model some money for posing for me *with her clothes on, thanks much*. Because she's a struggling college student and the mother of a young child, ultimately, and because she asked. And once she told me her name I googled her to see where else she may be online. The only interesting link I found apart from the regular model profiles was on a list of outstanding bench warrants. Driving drunk. So, big surprise, she's been fairly stupid about more than just modeling nude. Her father could google her and find this and then what would he do?

Something hypocritical.

Anyway, you can see that I am interested in the lives of those I work with. It's just like at my regular job. I am a supervisor, and I get to know those I supervise. I find out things about their personal lives that I would rather not know. I learn about their medical conditions, their bad habits, their social lives. I try to be responsible with the information. I try... And yet, sometimes, it's just too much information and I have to suppress the knowledge (not to mention judgment) in order to deal with them with humor and professionalism.

I think the mocha's wearing off. I'm going to have to drink something new or get the hell out of here. I keep writing sentences then erasing them.

I guess this defines my day off. Wish I had something irresponsible to do.