(Shedding)

It's time to shed it all off. It's time to sluff off this old skin. How appropriate that it comes on the trailing days of the old year.

The skin of this old job comes off like an old, suffocating cocoon. Splitting open the seams, gasping for air, struggling out of the hardened coffin. It's been killling me.

The final blast, that last destructive tirade, the threats of violence still ring in my ears. 'Unconscious' My god, he said I would leave 'unconscious'. I couldn't possibly deserve that.

To see my words like that in black and white makes it sink in deeper. The shear audacity, the break down of civilization, loss of human dignity and respect, it all seems so... frightening.

It's time for some changes. I've got some clean up to do. Lawyers to call, and recruiters to get back to. Friends to call, and meet with. A life to live, air to breathe.

There will be a change to this journal as well. Nothing major, just some layout changes. Not quite as bleak? minimal? Let's just say it has some more color. Look for it after the turn of the year.

A new look, a new life. It's about time.

Skin

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