the thing is, when kate sends those job postings, that little tremor of resentment isn't just for her, it’s for the part of me that still GETS it, that still remembers the hum, the phantom vibration in my pocket even when my work phone has been deactivated for months, that old sense of purpose that felt like a coat of armor, and it's not that i want to go back, not really, but the ghost of that drive, that need to BE needed, it’s a stubborn beast, always lurking just under the surface, a low frequency in my bones even when i'm just trying to learn how to exist here in san francisco without always chasing the next deliverable, without feeling the invisible weight of a former senior project manager title heavy on my chest, knowing the truth is it still takes more energy some days to fight that old programming than it ever did to just give in and drown in it, a quiet kind of exhaustion that no cortado can touch, the honest truth is that sometimes i just want to shake it off but it’s part of the fabric now, and i just have to let it rumble and pass.