I quit my job. It felt terrifying and relieving. Like when you’re too hot and somebody starts beating you with a bag full of ice-cubes.
On the day I handed in my notice my watch stopped for the first time in six years. A half hour disappeared. I tapped the face once, twice, and the second-hand sluggishly reanimated. It seems fine since, but I’ve become wary. I double-check. The ebb and flow of days have lost some of their certainty.
In related news, metaphors continue unabated.
— jaime Morrison Sep 26, 11:41 PM #
— Feaverish Sep 27, 04:46 PM #
— finn Sep 27, 08:50 PM #
I lived in fear for that moment, but I ended up leaving before him. I wonder if he ever followed through.
I’m not suggesting this… Hell, I don’t even know why I am writing this? What day is it?
— stb Sep 27, 11:31 PM #
Finn – maybe if you had the odd cup of tea in the mornings you wouldn’t be such a disease-ridden reprobate.
stb – You are the second person who has “not suggested I do that” this week. Seems to be a running theme.
— Pierce Sep 28, 12:55 AM #
Next time I quit you’ll be the last to know. I’ll want details on Monday.
— James Sep 29, 07:02 PM #
— Pierce Sep 29, 09:09 PM #
— finn Sep 30, 06:32 PM #
— Pierce Sep 30, 07:04 PM #
— Feaverish Oct 5, 10:52 PM #
— Pierce Oct 7, 03:52 PM #