There's a lot of speculation in the comments about what exactly I do during the week. My favorite was "Medical Examiner, Personal Protection and Contract Killer."
Potential disaster, death and terror. Not typical dinner subjects, yet ones that often come up in my social group. People who spend part of their time dealing with the mechanisms of disaster gravitate towards people who, like us, have a job that sometimes consists of nothing more than waiting for someone to have a really bad day. I worry about fate less; yes sometimes you are simply the bug on the windshield by being at the wrong place at the right time but I've also found that a good portion of our misfortunes arise, not from fate or ill health or the vagrancies of the winds, but from human rancor, fueled by innate stupidity, and those ever present justifications of the same, hell bent idealism and proselytizing mania for the sake of religious or political effigies. I'm required to be dispassionate and get into a routine. Empathy is a great quality in a person, but so is efficacy.
Like others who do what I do, I've seen a lot, learning the hard way that there is danger and dangerous souls in the world and I'm not one to shy away from it because maybe I can do something about it. It's not a glamorous job, but for me there is hope in it, there is order. I've never had the sense of clockwork conspiracies, or some kind of imposing order of evil. There's simply a sense of things falling apart. That's my sense of how most bad things happen, that it's not usually some kind of calculated evil driven by karma, but simply control disintegrating. Most times, things fall apart and happen out of stupidity and carelessness, not any one's personal jihad. And I'm there to either prevent it, or if I can't, pick up the pieces.
But it carries with it a load and by Friday night, I simply wish to be alone for a few hours, to savor that which affirms that I am alive.