[m4w] I was never iron, yet I rust

She talks of pain in metaphor, as the beauty of rust on iron. So, I dug out my Universal Magnetic Poetry Line.

Her metaphor does not support her assertions. Once something is rusting, it may be beautiful in some existential way, but it is no longer functional.

I feel broken, rotted on the shelf, still in the package well past my expiration date, rusted without having ever proven to be iron. (You'd probably have loved the almost LJ post I IM'd to Autumn last night, proving all your worst suspicions about me no doubt.) I spent two hours curled up in a ball of suck about it, when I could've been absorbed in The Book. Although I made up for that when the suckitude interfered with sleep. (On Monday, I mentioned that I rarely have sleep issues. I've had insomnia ever since. Grrrr.)

And then the busiest workday I've had here yet (in 9 months). I usually have a slow moment to write these before lunch. Not today. A combination of my manager taking some desperately needed time off, and that, possibly in an attempt to ensure that my contract would be renewed, I was made available as a resource to the other team in the department (wwho were chronically swamped even before they were adjusting to a new manager).

I like being busy, and work distracts me from the pain of everything else. It's just odd to not have a lot of time to blur my brains on a conceptis puzzle, or LJ, or call Mom, or phart around in Photoshop, or read The Book.

Left exactly early enough yesterday (to meet ms_friday, a new left coast import, at Diesel), that I missed the 11th hour confirmation of my contract renewal. Three more months makes it a full year, in a row, in the same company. Yow.

[m4w] I was never iron, yet I rust

She talks of pain in metaphor, as the beauty of rust on iron. So, I dug out my Universal Magnetic Poetry Line.

Her metaphor does not support her assertions. Once something is rusting, it may be beautiful in some existential way, but it is no longer functional.

I feel broken, rotted on the shelf, still in the package well past my expiration date, rusted without having ever proven to be iron. (You'd probably have loved the almost LJ post I IM'd to Autumn last night, proving all your worst suspicions about me no doubt.) I spent two hours curled up in a ball of suck about it, when I could've been absorbed in The Book. Although I made up for that when the suckitude interfered with sleep. (On Monday, I mentioned that I rarely have sleep issues. I've had insomnia ever since. Grrrr.)

And then the busiest workday I've had here yet (in 9 months). I usually have a slow moment to write these before lunch. Not today. A combination of my manager taking some desperately needed time off, and that, possibly in an attempt to ensure that my contract would be renewed, I was made available as a resource to the other team in the department (wwho were chronically swamped even before they were adjusting to a new manager).

I like being busy, and work distracts me from the pain of everything else. It's just odd to not have a lot of time to blur my brains on a conceptis puzzle, or LJ, or call Mom, or phart around in Photoshop, or read The Book.

Left exactly early enough yesterday (to meet ms_friday, a new left coast import, at Diesel), that I missed the 11th hour confirmation of my contract renewal. Three more months makes it a full year, in a row, in the same company. Yow.