what doesn't kill us.

after listening to me ramble, a friend assessed that it sounds as though the job search is making me "a bit poopy." i squinted my eyes for a second and was like,

not quite -- we've passed Poopy. that was a ways back; even before we hit Frustrated. Desperate is also behind us -- was like three exits ago. we've arrived at ... not a "crossroads," exactly, but a meeting place of some kind, where Need & Clarity have intersected to grant me a Zenlike Calm. my friend just looked at me, slack-jawed and silent. which i thought was appropriate.

so i thought to repeat it when i spoke by phone to my old professor, who disagreed, calling it "frail and solipsistic;" i believe the man who overheard my phone conversation at the coffeeshop muttered something about "a grade-A clusterfuck;" while my writer-friend commented later that it "sounds more like narcissism minus the fun parts." i am impervious: their skepticism only makes me stronger. man.