You know those times when you're exhausted, like emotionally wrung out?You feel like your mind was a sponge that has just been used to clean the kitchen and the bathroom and the rest of the house too. All the cleaning products and detritus of modern life the sponge absorbed that were then meticulously rinsed out of the sponge, into the cleaning pail filled with washing water and dumped down the drain so the sponge itself has been effectively cleaned and, once dried, will be ready for heavy duty use again. I'm that sponge. Seen it, done it, read about it, wrote about it, talked about it, argued about it, and generally processed the fuck out of it. And now I'm drying.
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