Quitting isn't the end, but I hate quitting.

OK, so I quit. So what? Yea, I'm a little defensive right now. I hate quitting, especially when I do it. I could call it "redeployment of resources", or "simplification of attention allocation", or even "strategic withdrawal". You know, surrender to fight another day - that sort of thing. Although a rose might be a rose by any other name, the bard should have said "quitting by any other name is still quitting". And I hate quitting.

However, when you find yourself banging your head against the wall days without end (amen), you will have to choose a day to stop. As a freeborn adult, you can continue as long as you would like, but stopping will probably be best at some point.

You might have noticed that all of the older posts on this site have the same creation date. Lest you think that I was overcome by my muse on that day (or worse yet, that you'll have to sort through thousands of posts by mid-December), all of them were copied from my previous blog page on a cycling club website. I was the captain of that team, and so owned the coveted blog-spot. Now that I've quit, I have to move my stuff out.

If you're wondering why I quit here's the straight and simple. We didn't get along. We grew apart. We developed different interests. I was never understood. You know, the usual excuses. Mostly, I was tired of rowing the boat alone and, having only one of the paddles, I was tired of trying not to row in circles.

Rowing in circles, beating your head against the wall, tilting at windmills - all good reasons to quit. But I still hate quitting.