I look back at this moment sometimes, the moment I accepted this job, and I have to wonder what kind of decision it was--the right decision that is the wrong one, or the wrong one that's actually right. Someday I hope this is clear to me, that I can find the right end, the right moral to this story. Am I the sort of person who makes life harder than it has to be? Did I actively invite all this trouble into my life or was I just doing the best I could? But it's as terrible as it is true: everyone has something in them they cannot yet see.