Waiting Game

I'm not a good chess player.

I don't strategize.

I've never been good at thinking ahead, making plans and setting players into precise locations, to be available for the next worst thing.

What I do well is react.

I am a strong personality, I land on my feet, usually.

If for some reason my landing is unsteady, I am quick study and very very soon acclimate to new climates and experiences.

Despite what many of you may think, either from my posts or from knowing me personally, I can withstand a lot.  I may seem overly testy, but I can bide time and make the best of matters with the best of them.

Better than the rest, actually.  My last eight years have proved that without a shadow of a doubt.

But now, it is time to leave.

And I'm terrified, and I'm discouraged, and I'm down.

And yet, I'm hopeful, confident, assertive and fairly pissed.

This last one struck down to the very iron of my being.

And to withstand and submit now would be impossible.

Full disclosure, I promise.  Soon.   I made a vow not to write about work, and I'll honor that, unless in the most oblique terms possible.

But hear ye this.  I'm done. 

I've flexed all I am capable of flexing.  I've had all I can stands.

I can't stands no more.

I am not your fall guy.  I will never be your fall guy again.