Unhappy Pieces of Paper

My current job is at a Kindergarten.
I am a substitute teacher;
taking the place of a rather incompetant man.
Working under the supervision of a Dictator.

I realized on Friday,
that this is not the job for me.
I am much better in the cold world of Business.
Economics.
Finance.
Managing the incompetant.
Paying the Brilliant.
Or firing the Uninteresting.

Numbers
and Figures.
Words
and Speeches.
Arguments
and Discussions.
All related to Money.

The beauty of Money is incomprehendable!
It makes life so much easier.
Omits all unnecessary emotions.

Working with Children is different.
They don't have any understanding of money.
Sure, it's great when they get a new toy,
but what about those Hugs?
Kisses?
That infinite Trust?!

How is it possible,
that one work with children,
and ignore the fact that life is not beautiful?
It's not a dream that one sails through smiling.
It isn't even mildly sweetnatured.

Bad things happen.
People die.
Children die.
Others are hurt,
decieved.

How can I work with children,
if I keep thinking about the horrors they may one say suffer?
The moments they will want to cry.
Other's when death may truly be the only other logical alternative?

I like that which will one day be my profession.
I like rewarding with money.
I like punishing with a lack of it.

"This planet has — or rather had — a problem, which was this: most of the people on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces of paper, which is odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy."
(Quote from "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"
by Douglas Adams, Chapter 1)