I am carrying textbooks. A big stack of them. So high that I can't really see over them. They aren't quite balanced. It's all I can do not to drop any. And it's my job to see that they are taken care of, whatever that means.
A person walks by and notices the books. "Wow, that's a heavy load," the person says. "You are doing a great job. Keep up the good work."
Another person walks up to me and says, "Yeah, you have a lot of books, but you should see my stack. I have bigger books and more of them. But I'm strong so I'm doing fine." I don't know how many books this person really has. I can't see past my stack.
Another person, "You may have more books, but I'm not used to carrying books. You should take some of mine."
All the while I'm trying to keep the books stable. I'm trying to do my job.
A couple of people offer to help, but my stack is so unstable, so imbalanced, that I am afraid to let anyone else touch them. Besides, it's my job.
Another person comes by. This person doesn't see me. This person just sees that I have the book this person has been looking for. This person grabs the wanted book (from the middle of the stack) and walks away, somehow missing the sound of books falling and my sigh of frustration.
And I stand there. I stand there and stare at the books on the ground.
I want to drop the books and run away. I want to run away and hide. In a dark corner or a closet. Anywhere that I can hide and not be found.
But I don't. I hold the ones I still have. I stare at the ones I dropped. And I just stand there.