From under a pile of snow...

It's cold. Baby it's cold outside.
I've had a jolly good sulk over the weekend and decided that Mrs Moose is right to teach the mooselets that "sulking doesn't work."
It hasn't worked and now I'm embarrassed that I've had such a public sulk. It's my party and I'll cry if I want to. Mama told me not to come - that ain't no way to have fun.
Having said that, I'm still not convinced that I shouldn't just stay here.
Despite all the wonderful things you have all said.
Despite the enormous understanding and friendship you have all shown to me.
Thank you all. Most of all thank you for the respect you showed me in supporting my decision, even if it turns out to have been wrong.
There was an article in the Sunday papers that I read about happiness and how embarrassment is one of the main blocks to our happiness.
I'm concerned that my embarrassment about the situation will stop me admitting I made a mistake and stop me from coming back. Sorry seems to be the hardest word.
Am I cutting off my nose to spite my face? You've all become real friends. You have been there for me whatever happens with no demands and no expectations. Unconditional friends. I don't have any of those in the "real" world.
On the other hand I worry that my grieving for the blog is natural and something I just need to get through, but that it was still the right decision to go.
Which is the mistake? Going or not coming back? Should I stay or should I go?
I worry that I haven't spent enough time under the snow thinking even though it seems like an eternity since last Friday when I came here.
All I ever wanted to do was make a difference. On Friday I lost sight of the fact that I had. Thanks to those of you that pointed it out to me.
But the question remains how I make the most difference in the future...and to whom?
There's an awful lot happening in my life at the moment. I'm worried that my decisions are poor because I'm being too influenced by the very latest event and my feelings that are being triggered by it. Life is a rollercoaster - just got to ride it.

If I did come back things would have to change. Anonymity is a good thing in some ways - a harmless bit of fun between well-meaning bloggers and sensible protection from the malevolent ones that we all know are out and about. But it offers a cloak of invisibility which makes you act in a strange way. If I come back I'm determined that I will only say things that it's acceptable for the real me to say, but with the cloak of bravery that a pseudonym provides.
But I can't come back as the "real me" because of the malevolent ones...I didn't really think of that until I set up a new "real me" blog and sat there with a blank screen, realising that there was nothing to be said.
I'm worried that coming back would be a selfish, vain act. You're so vain, I bet you think this blog is about you.
I shouldn't have left that gap in the snow. I can see a small patch of sky through it. In that patch of sky are a few stars...those stars give me too much hope.

Maybe I could be like Doctor Who and still exist but in a new incarnation. I've been Tom Baker but now I could be Peter Davidson. (Giving away my age). Someone tell me to stop before Sylvester McCoy turns up.

It's a good job that wireless networks stretch everywhere these days...

I'm sitting here having edited this for the sixth time wondering whether to hit "Save as Draft" again or "Publish".

The words of a famous writer, Stuart Maconie quiz contestant and sharer of the CE sauna from Sussex come to mind...
"There comes a time when you have to publish and be damned!"