Without going into grotty detail, here is the question: Having made one's bed a certain way (a way that makes one miserable, one now realises), should one grit one's teeth and bear up? Or should one say, the hell with it, life's too short, and move onto something that might be better - or might be equally bad?
In the context of, say, a job, to stay or to quit seems like a simple enough decision. Placed in the context of one's deeper beliefs, the question resounds with conflicting arguments that lead to the eternal questions - who am I? What do I believe? Must my actions reflect my beliefs? Should they?
Sitting at my dining table, looking dully out at a gloomy sky that glowers in at me, I sense I'm working myself into A Mood. The sonorous sound of Boots Randolph playing back to me the warm glow of my childhood makes me lonelier still. The year-end black funk seems to be beginning early this year.
The question stands. I'm not looking for answers (like hell I'm not), but feel free to write in if you want to offer opinions. As someone once wrote to me, I need a sign, a motif, something to show me the way.