The Lending Library of Me.
Ever been guilt-tripped by a compliment? The current example resurfaced this afternoon in a semi-social setting I'd been actively trying to avoid for the latter half of the week:
"We're lucky to have you."
It's embarrassing, and the implied subtext oozes a mixture of faint desperation and presumed reassurance, hence the guilt.
Naturally, this ties-in to a matter I discussed personally with some of you a couple of weeks ago - my changing attitude towards signing-off on projects. All that not-cutting-strings and let's-DO-keep-in-touch bollocks has, over the past couple of years, given way to a more relaxed, boundaries-are-GOOD and closure-GOD-how-I-LOVE-closure mentality. Looking back, there was a specific catalyst, and a series of minor realizations which prompted the change. (That damned pilot study coming back to haunt me, and triggering a slew of new associations, certainly played its part.)
I'm glad that a more whimsical spirit has scrunched it all down to an accurate if somewhat pastoral take on an old descriptor. In the past, it might've tickled me enough to prompt some accompanying artwork: The Gypsy Polymoth. However, it's an ideal, and a vaguely romanticised one at that. As much as feelings are always secondary to the meat of an issue (or, increasingly, a problem to be solved), how I feel about the situation - and the associated non-predicament of those who demonstrate a distorted sense of reliance upon and expectations of this weary old human bookcase - is much better encapsulated in the Subject line of this entry.
"We're lucky to have you."
Telling them that their luck is - literally - running out isn't supposed to be easy, is it?
"We're lucky to have you."
It's embarrassing, and the implied subtext oozes a mixture of faint desperation and presumed reassurance, hence the guilt.
Naturally, this ties-in to a matter I discussed personally with some of you a couple of weeks ago - my changing attitude towards signing-off on projects. All that not-cutting-strings and let's-DO-keep-in-touch bollocks has, over the past couple of years, given way to a more relaxed, boundaries-are-GOOD and closure-GOD-how-I-LOVE-closure mentality. Looking back, there was a specific catalyst, and a series of minor realizations which prompted the change. (That damned pilot study coming back to haunt me, and triggering a slew of new associations, certainly played its part.)
I'm glad that a more whimsical spirit has scrunched it all down to an accurate if somewhat pastoral take on an old descriptor. In the past, it might've tickled me enough to prompt some accompanying artwork: The Gypsy Polymoth. However, it's an ideal, and a vaguely romanticised one at that. As much as feelings are always secondary to the meat of an issue (or, increasingly, a problem to be solved), how I feel about the situation - and the associated non-predicament of those who demonstrate a distorted sense of reliance upon and expectations of this weary old human bookcase - is much better encapsulated in the Subject line of this entry.
"We're lucky to have you."
Telling them that their luck is - literally - running out isn't supposed to be easy, is it?