I’m not a big fan of country music, but there’s one Kenny Rogers song I’ve always thought was good advice. The Gambler has the following to say:
You’ve got to know when to hold ’em
Know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run…
I think that’s a pretty good life lesson, but not one I’ve always heeded. I’m a poor Poker player because I don’t like to fold (I want to stay in the game), and I’ll bluff when I’m holding a 2 and a 6. I don’t like walking away.
That’s a tough one, but it’s what I’m faced with now. I’ve done all my bluffing, and I’ve been called on it. Fold or walk away, they’re my options, and neither one especially palatable. But, as they say, suck it up princess.
I’ve tried everything I can just about think of and the Thai girls won’t budge. That’s their offer, and that’s it. It’s a blow to the ego knowing that I have little choice but to fold, but it’s an even bigger blow to the bank balance.
There were moments last night when the bluff was still running when I contemplated the walking away option. In this context it means refusing their low bid and instead declaring myself bankrupt. It’s the thing I’ve been staving off seemingly forever, but it had some appeal.
I had hoped in selling all or part of the business I would end up with some cash left over, and some breathing space. I crave that breathing space. I wanted to relax for 5 minutes knowing that right now I had it under control. Gee I miss that feeling. As it is now, and as it’s been for a long time, I feel as if I’m being crushed under the weight of debt. It’s like one rock after another being placed on your chest until it seems you can hardly breathe. That’s how I live, but most days I just put it out of my mind.
Now it seems there is no respite from that, even if I do manage to sell. I lay there dreading the thought that this state of affairs would continue. I felt so exhausted, so weary from the struggle, just all done in and with the one small glimmer of hope just about snuffed out. Why not then go bankrupt? It’s not what I want to do. I don’t think it’s who I am: it feels like quitting. But I’ve fought the good fight haven’t I? Can I not hold my head high? Isn’t it fair enough?
You see if I do that the din I wake up to every day and go to sleep to, will be muted. Everything, suddenly, will be simplified. There will be things to do, many of them, but the mighty struggle I’ve been fighting for so long will be over. I can relax, for a little bit, but there are consequences…
I’m seeing the girls tonight. I’ll try one last ploy, but don’t have high hopes. Push comes to shove I’ll fold, sign on the dotted line, and take what I can. That seems the sensible option.
If I am to walk away, that’s the time to do it…after. Time will tell, but I can’t see myself doing it.