Knowing When to Quit

It has been a strange few weeks. I’ve taken on too much and I’m suffering for it. My brain has been decidedly holey. I know that’s not a word but it should be. Move over Shakespeare, you’re not the only one who can make up words. Where was I? Oh yes, brain full of holes, you see? Easily distracted, unable to focus on much, leaving my bank card in shops and being full of cold.

I’m sure I’m not the only one. Even the dog is a bit run down with a cut on his lip and a cough. (Vet bills always make you appreciate the NHS). I expect politicians, vicars, journalists and music teachers everywhere feel the same.

People who are in this kind of frantic state aren’t easy to help. They don’t take kindly to being told to step down. They worry that if they take their finger out of the hole the world will flood. Even if they aren’t doing the best job they just can’t stop.

Political commentators are speculating about why Jeremy Corbyn hasn’t resigned. There is a strange interview with him in the Guardian today where he says that he won the argument. Clearly, he didn’t win the argument because the Labour Party were devastated at the polls. The problem came because he only had the argument with people that already agreed with him. Those of us who would like a Labour Government need to accept that the next leader needs to be someone who doesn’t necessarily appeal to those who are already going to vote for them but one that convinces others that their policies are a good thing. The left also needs to stop being so tribal and work together a bit more. But Jeremy Corbyn can’t quit. He’s not a quitter, he will stubbornly see things through to the bitter end and beyond.

Being tenacious is a strength most of the time. However, there are occasions when you just need to give in and let someone else step in, without feeling like that makes your whole life a failure.

This morning, I should be standing on the freezing cold prom with a bass clarinet in my hands to play music while hundreds of Santas run around me.

It is usually the point where I feel I might be hallucinating but that happened a week earlier this year, with the blue cat, so I’m giving in. I’m going to have a morning on the sofa with the dog, a box of tissues and a lemsip before I pull myself together and keep on going. Like Jeremy, I’m not ready to completely quit yet.