I sat there with the stench threatening to pull me under. I once had the misfortune of being in proximity of a goat (I’ve always liked goats) which had hoof rot.  The goat was very alive, but carried the scent of the very dead. It did “goatly” things, but in such a spiritless manner that the air around it was coated with the same “spiritlessness”. This was the sort of stench and feeling to which my gut and memory were now subjecting me.

I decided to let the thoughts have their way. Enough with the stone routine! Enough with the noble acceptance! The thoughts, glad for easy access, began crashing down on me.  After the first wave of resentment, I could feel a second and a third rising. And beneath that second and third were yet more waves. I knew what was coming; my waves would soon turn on me. 

They did. It began. The self-reproach.  The thoughts donned spurs; all the better to inflict injury. The first lance warned me that I had made myself a victim. The second growled that I had grown beyond repulsive. The third slashed me up a headache in a bid to alert me that I was lucky to have been given the exit sign. The fourth bit deeply into my flesh. It dared to suggest that continuing with the news company would have made me the very sort of professional I have always hated. The ferocity of the lances startled me; I offered no counterstrike. The lancing continued unabated.

When I finally came to, I felt a thought laving its tongue over my gut in an attempt to rouse and reassure me.  It was joined by another thought which told me that I was no victim. You are a most calculating girl, another chimed in. I began paying attention. You are a thinker- a quick study, another praised me.  I shrugged in acceptance. You are talented and can make it anywhere in this world, came another note of flattery.

I brightened up a bit. Yes, and you are slightly educated, a charming thought nudged me teasingly.

I pondered the praises from these thoughts. I decided that my talents, achievements and sheer will power presented none too shabby a package. Whatever I did yesterday, I could better today. I stood to gain the world. It slowly dawned on me that I’d never put work before myself.  Without realizing it, I'd finally moved closer to becoming the professional woman I could stomach.

My spirit returned; the spiritless air took its leave. I positioned myself before my trusty laptop.  I began putting together a plan of action and a few proposals.  I took the time to pencil in some vacation time. I'd not had a real vacation in nine years. I would probably need one before starting my next job(s). There might not be many sureties left in this world. But, there was still one certainty to which I could cling: work is what I know. Women like me don’t stand still- unless by choice. I am, after all, a working girl.