It was about my late article, and it has been sent. I am very happy about that and much relieved. It went through four drafts in this space. Self flagellation was progressively removed from it.
My problem is that the politics at work have had me emotionally exhausted for so long. I keep hoping I see light at the end of the tunnel, but I have been wrong so often that in fact hope mourns. I am interested in my work but I have many hours in which it seems that the only true way out of the morass would be to shed my skin, absolve myself of every pending obligation, find a way to forgive myself everything, and go to live by the sea.
I dream of watching the clouds go by and feeling the air move. Waves would lap and roar. I imagine working on some very objective, very interesting, and very useful practical project as a face-to-face team member in a large organization, and hearing the universe click along after hours.
I have this fantasy because I want to escape intellectual isolation and also harassment, and the place where that has so often happened. Yet more precisely, I want to escape my own shame over it, and the blame I appear to place upon myself for having felt its effects.