Son of a BITCH

They never change.

Never.

No matter how many chances you give them. The fire will always burn you, no matter how many times you jump in it. And no matter what kind of "fire suit" you think you're wearing. There ain't one flame-retardant enough, believe me.

I wouldn't say it's square one again, but it's definitely square backwards. Shit. Well, at least I kept my (most of) my dignity and pride intact.

Contact will always equal pain, sooner or later. If you have your eyes open, it will be SOONER and you can get out faster and maybe the scars won't be so deep. That's the only bright side.

So, progress looks like one of those business graphs...you know, the kind with the line that starts out on the left at the bottom corner, goes up some, then down a little, then up to a peak, then drops a little bit, then back up, then drops a lot, then back up...it's not a straight line up to infinity. We're human, and I have to allow myself that. My line went down some, but is trending upwards, because I've gained some "business savvy." Putting on my stiletto pumps and walking out on that fiasco. All he's gonna see is my cute little rear end in that tight pencil skirt walking away on those heels, and my graph going up again.