today's very iffy analogy for the situation at the office: it's like getting dumped for something incidental - having small breasts, say - and then having to make dinner for your ex's family. you'd like to serve bad shellfish, but they don't know what's happened, it wasn't their fault, and satisfaction isn't worth assault charges. they should know he's an ass, but it's not like they'd be loyal to you. so you cook really well.

i told you it was iffy.

actually i just come home very tired. i liked these people, and i'm naive enough to be hurt when they act like nothing has changed. an odd, cold pride is keeping me businesslike, but the full-body ache has set in by the time i get back to the apartment. i should be grateful that i'm young and mortgage-free, and i am - but i'm in debt, and job interviews are my kryptonite, and damn it, i thought i was doing well.

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