Darkness. Complete darkness. My ears pounded, and every sound grew louder. I was out of breath, like I’d just sprinted for the train and was late for work. I tried to open my eyes, but it was too bright—just a sheet of white, like looking at an icy pond at high noon. Sweat gathered on my forehead, my lungs burning as I struggled to fill them. I tried opening my eyes again. Too bright. The brightness faded into shapes, but nothing was clear.
“It’s o-kayyy.” A muffled voice reached me.
Darkness. Complete darkness. My ears pounded, and every sound grew louder. I was out of breath, like I’d just sprinted for the train and was late for work. I tried to open my eyes, but it was too bright—just a sheet of white, like looking at an icy pond at high noon. Sweat gathered on my forehead, my lungs burning as I struggled to fill them. I tried opening my eyes again. Too bright. The brightness faded into shapes, but nothing was clear.
“It’s o-kayyy.” A muffled voice reached me.
The hardest part of being divorced is learning to go out again. Going out solo feels agoraphobic, with conversations amplified, the awkwardness apparent, the ring still on the finger. It took forever to become comfortable in my own skin again, dump the ring, and learn to appreciate myself for who I am.
I’ve been in meeting after meeting where some non-programmer will say, “It appears we’re in a Do-Loop.” The intention is to indicate that they’re in a situation that’s impossible to get out of, or a “do loop” with no exit plan. A Do-Loop (by itself) is the same thing as doing something for an infinite amount of time.
Clouds of veracity, I sink into never.
I haven’t seen your face in forever.
Eternal delight, I’m thinking in time,
The warmth of your touch and your hand in mine.