What I need can never be,
Not ever, in this life.
Not you,
Nor you,
Nor you,
Nor you,
Nor you, nor you, indeed.
Not you, not you,
Not even you,
Not ever, in this life.

It occurs to me that I've never really faced, not really faced, the likelihood that I'm going to remain a single and lonely person for the rest of my life, as I have been for the 46 years I've so far seen.

I can think of no reason why the current sitution should change.

Do I resign myself to it?

Or do I resign myself to the subtly different prospect of spending the remaining decades falling in love with people who can't return my feelings, as I have the last four decades?

Now that most of the financial information's been presented to us, about the impending redundancies, and now that the offer is substantially more generous, I am presented with a choice:

I can take an immediate (or nearly so) redundancy - a few weeks of handing over my job, a very handy chunk of cash, and (hopefully) pay in lieu of the remainder of my notice - which would also be a handy (though rather smaller) sum.

or

I can choose to "transition" - taking up to six months to hand over my work, and thereby doing a more thorough job of it.  At the end of that time, a bonus.  Small, but again, handy.  There might, again, be pay-in-lieu, and I should have accrued another year's service, so a little more redundancy pay would be added.

How eager am I to cut and run?

Does the lure of extra dosh exceed the powerful desire to get the hell out of here?

If I go as soon as may be, I'd have to start looking at the possibility of trying out the acting career I've been daydreaming about, and quite quickly.  If I do that, where does that leave the Artisans?  I have, after all, just said that I'll direct next year's summer play...

If I stay for the extra six months, will the inevitable loathing for the situation be more than I can bear?

I should probably get quite drunk tonight.