(no subject)
There is a deep sense of satisfaction I find in wrestling with a database all day. My coworker can see this plainly. From my office I emit a curse word. Then a few moments later I cackle victoriously, having cracked a code, discovered a solution, and beaten the damn thing at its own game. That is until I'm KOed once more by a different complication or because I've forgotten the route I took to my former success and must try to relearn what I've already solved. "It's fun to watch you figure this out. You're like a new person." I'm not offended. It's true.
The point is: I feel purposeful, the atrophy from a missing goal cracking at long last. It won't be forever, but at least there is something to be proud of. This puppy is all mine, the management I wield of my own volition! Mine. My own!! (My precious?)
I'm still going to quit in January. Maybe live a month in Italy next spring, the biggest maybe I've ever thought up, and be done with what feels like a six year past presently being lived thanks to a poor economy and a 23 year old whose mistakes I'm still paying for.
Whatevs, I finally think. Whatevs, whatevs, whatevs. I've got work to do!
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