The Salt Mine

I'm used to being good at what I do, at least professionally. I hate it when I do shit poorly. I don't like doing a bad job. I'd rather do something I know I can do. This can -- for a Taurusy Taurus like myself -- lead to ruts. I know this. I can adjust. Sometimes it is too late. And sometimes it's just late.

I'm hoping this is one of those cases of just late.

The truth is that this job is really fucking big and I need two of me to realistically get it done. Or another half of me. So I'm getting another, well-trained half-of-me part-time. I'll try not to let it bother me that it's a CTO level and that I'm not in it.

Although some days it is like getting punched in the stomach, repeatedly. As in: remember, you couldn't do this job, magically, when it was finally recognized as a need. Too slow, I was having a life, focusing on love and the pursuit of a really fucking long commute.

I cut my commute in half. And I'm about half-a-brain back. But I insist on having a life, and other desires. And yeah, maybe that might take me away someday. But until then, I'll be holding onto my job with both hands. Thank you very much.