My hiatus is continuing on, at least technically, until I can think of some way to bring it to a fitting conclusion. Just to end it abruptly like biting off a piece of licorice is not my style.
But I'm roused to the idea that the end needs to be very soon. I'm well rested and, I believe stoked to what the future may hold. At this point it's just a matter of thinking of a fitting time, some significant day, to pull the plug or stick in the knife and going about it in the safest way.
I'm trying to think back if I started my hiatus in a fitting way. Probably not. I was just overworked, stressed, and feeling put upon -- and I cried out, "I'm going on hiatus." It happened just like that. With not much malice aforethought. Then certain things about it took over. It made itself at home.
As we went on, it really came to life. At first I celebrated it, relished it, and I even fought for it. We had plenty of good times. But a few times, as I recall, we had some real difficulties, and our relationship alternated between wrestling and rasslin'. I wanted to wrestle with it, but it wanted to rassle with me. Then vice versa, which is only fitting. We had a hard time knowing who would be top dog, knowing that no one can be top dog forever. I remember taking a few two-by-fours to its head, and, yes, I took a shiv to the gut more than once! That's what rasslin' is all about.
Having all that time off really did something for my day. I was able to fit in all kinds of new and clever ways of killing time. I got some sleep. I took leisurely walks. I was up in my citadel looking out over a very tiny world. I saw a lot of former "friends" and "followers" from there, all about the size of ants, very fitting.
Then there were times when the whole thing seemed like a bad fit, like when I was stewing to get something done but my hiatus was always in my face insisting on its own way. I can confess it now, there were a couple times I left the light on in my citadel and sneaked out the back way, creeping noiselessly past my hiatus as it kept watch there as a vigilant sentry. What did I do on these outings? I went and did some work and got a few things done, frankly, but then inevitably I'd feel guilty, creep back past the sentry and back up to the citadel. Then I'd come down as thought nothing had happened.
For the most part all the pieces fit into place. We've lived together, shared together, fought together, and grown together. But, as so often happens, what was once a cute, newborn pet, became an unmanageable behemoth. And that's when you just need to step up and put it to sleep -- kill it -- if you dare. I'm typing this with my hiatus surrounding me in this room like a blob. There's barely room to fit me in. Part of it's snoring in the corner behind me and another part's in the other room taking a leak. A couple more weeks of growth like this and it'll simultaneously be outside flying a kite and inside working on its stamp collection.
Outwardly I chuckle. If I don't kill it it'll die soon anyway. Pituitary problems, heart disease, hiatal hernia. But inwardly I'm seething, having fits while I wait. If I took a knife to it, I might escape with one arm intact, I don't know. Joshua fit the battle of Jericho, of course. But this final battle with my hiatus might not be so easy.
It's somehow strangely fitting that I would be overrun by it. I asked for it. But how can I overcome it? I taught it everything I know about both wrestling and rasslin'.
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