Down...

Clack.
I held my head up high.
Clack.
My sight was straight.
Clack.
The poise of my steps were steady.
Clack.
Managed a grin about halfway through it all.

Clack.

Stop.

Start.

A verbatim of words was exchanged.

My walk back to the covert of my cubicle was less than certain.

The spring in my steps were strangely short.

The smile that was plastered to my face felt fake.

This is the time of the year.
The time of the year when the measure of a man is weighted.

Mine came up glaringly inferior.

Though I went in harbouring no illusions of grandeur, the fallacious assessment of my worth struck me to no end.

Humbled I was.
And to grin and bear it with stoic dignity (or what's left of it) called on my reserves of utter shamelessness.

No more.
No more I say.
No more can I accept this scathing blow without a nugget of resistance.

I swear.
I swear that the next time , things can and will only get better.

Just watch and see.