...the lamp post muttered...

I was going to paste three lines from a T.S. Eliot poem, but I changed my mind.

Because when it comes down to it, I am not a broken spring from a factory, rusted, curled, ready to snap. At all.

I'm tough, and gorgeous, and did I mention tough? Yes. I may not be able to control thoughts come unbidden in dreams, but I can control my actions in the waking hours. So actions? Get ready to be slapped down like nobody's business.

Cheers.