A Quotidian Dilemma
by
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Her name was Nita Benson and she worked in the procurement department at a governmental office in Washington, DC. It was a mind-numbing, soul-sucking, going-nowhere kind of job... like many other federal positions. It was awful, but it paid the rent. Some days, like today, it didn't seem worth the effort. Some days, like today, she felt like surrendering and giving up on life. "I won't let it get to me! Besides, I can't really be depressed?" Looking into the mirror, mounted above her dresser, she didn't look depressed. She couldn't even say that she felt depressed; yet she had all of the symptoms that her best friend, a psychologist by profession, had just given her. Could it be that she had been depressed for so long that she no longer knew how it felt to be un-depressed? She shook her head, to clear it, and dismissed the thought. What did she have to be depressed about? Other than just being fired from a job which she had hated from the beginning, and having no visible means of support, she was doing fine. On the positive side, she had finally received the time off that her supervisor had always denied her. Although he'd known very well that she'd been burnt out and had really, really needed a break, he'd denied all of her requests for time off. The jerk! He'd probably gotten his kicks by waiting for her to go "postal". But, then he'd had the unmitigated gall to fire her! Her! She still hadn't gotten over that! She had almost gone "postal" and given him what he had been asking for. Her normally non-devious mind had spent hours plotting his inhumane demise. She had finally devised a fool-proof scheme to blow up the entire complex where she'd once worked. She would plant bombs in each of the coat rooms, via attaché cases; then, she would leave the building and phone in a bomb threat, giving them only five minutes to clear out the innocent workers and tourists. Then, she would detonate the bomb from across the street and watch the building go up in smoke. "I have to stop thinking like that!" she determined. She was getting far too much pleasure out of plotting to blow up a government building and that was not good. Rationally thinking, the FBI would be called in and she just might be arrested. That would really, really depress her! "I'm being delusional," she told herself. "Isn't delusion a sign of depression? Or, is that dementia? No matter, since I'm neither. Then, why am I talking to myself?" She shut up and started thinking. She had to find a way to remain positive. She had to define her strengths and weaknesses and aim for her strengths. Pulling out a tablet, she began to write. "Now, what are my pluses?" Her mind was blank. Oh, no! Cynthia, her best friend, and the one who had suggested that she might be dealing with depression, was right! "I am depressed! Why else couldn't I think of one good thing to say about myself?!" She paced for a few moments before glancing out of the window into the bright sun. "Maybe I need a little fresh air. Maybe all that I have is a little cabin fever." She had been hiding-out in her bed for the last two weeks since her firing and wasn't withdrawal another sign of depression? Maybe I'll go for a little jog, she thought. That way I can kill two birds with one stone: I can exercise, which is a proven spirit lifter; and, I can lose a few pounds, to boot. As she jogged, she tried not to obsess over her horrid surroundings. On top of her life being in upheaval, her environment was also a mess. She had been in Washington, DC for two years and was still shocked whenever she was out and about in the man-made hell-hole. Within sight of the Capitol and the White House, drunks and dope users lay prone along the streets and upon every park bench. They often urinated in the alleys and didn't care who saw them do so. The scent nearly made her pass out as she jogged by one of the alleyways. A few times, she had even viewed a few lost addicts vomiting into the streets, where they also slept, amidst the trash, the filth, and the rodents. Washington was the dirtiest city that she had ever seen! What bothered her most about it was that its residents didn't seem to notice! And, they were the cause of all of the filth! She watched the people, strolling up ahead of her, as they ate lunch from styrofoam plates. As soon as the plates were emptied, they were tossed into the street. Nobody seemed to care that there was a trash receptacle on the corner. If this had been an isolated incident, she might have had less of a reaction; however, this was a typical, every day occurrence. She wished that she could be like everybody else... oblivious. Why did she always have to dwell on things and think about them so much? That had always been her worst fault. She thought about every little thing too the point of obsession. As she jogged past the wretched bums, she also thought about her life... or non-life. After all of these years of trying hard not to be, she had to face the fact that she was a total failure. What was it going to take for her to ever be successful in life? Once, she believed that to be satisfied and content was all that was needed. At one time, she thought that she could reach that place; however, it had always found a way to elude her. It always seemed to be just over the next horizon or just around the next corner. What had gone wrong? Why did her life have to stink so? Boy, if she hadn't been depressed before, she was now. Looking over her life's accomplishments left a lot to be desired. Her life almost hadn't been worth living. Not that she wanted to pack it all in and die, heaven forbid. She just wanted to be satisfied! Was that too much to ask for? Other people were living a good and satisfying life... and they didn't deserve it nearly as much as she did! Rich people didn't need all of that money! What was the point of stockpiling more money than you and your children's children could ever spend? On the other hand, if she had tons of cash, she would, at least, use the majority of it to ease the world's problems! People would not be eating from trash cans and sleeping in the street! She would receive her satisfaction and joy from helping others. What rich person did that today? Most were too busy trying to stay ahead of everybody else to really help anybody. Most would sell their own mothers, and disown their own God, to increase their coffers. She was not like them at all. But, what good did her exemplary life afford her? Nada! Why was it that the wrong people seemed to have all of the money? People seemed to be doing the exact opposite of what she would do... if she had tons of cash. She would do great things. She would heal the sick, feed the hungry, house the homeless, eliminate poverty, and bring peace to the world.
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About the Book
A Quotidian Dilemma
Nita, my heroine, feels unloved; dissatisfied and disillusioned with her existence; and, lacks a true gratitude for the preciousness of life. Thus, she seeks to end hers. She learns, after a once-in-a-lifetime adventure, to appreciate and accept life, and love, as they come. The lackluster alternative is to go through life as a casual observer.
Other main characters are Le Tran, a hardened military Commander; and Vance and Judy Anderson, her best friends who are living outside of the law's protection.
About the Author
Juanita Batson was born in Jackson, Tennessee and raised all over the United States, from coast to coast, thanks to a career military father. She, herself, spent four years in the U.S. Navy, which was not her most prudent action. In spite of being raised in a strict military fashion, she remained a child of the seventies. A flower child in military uniform was not congruent at all. A Quotidian Dilemma is a book that Ms. Batson had to write. Written in her head, during the mid-eighties, and put on paper in the early nineties, she knew that all she had to do was sit back to wait for the publishing houses to call. Alas, it is hard for an unknown to get published without an angle. Although Ms. Batson has never had formal instruction as a writer, she has always loved reading and writing. She wanted to write something that was not like the usual, ordinary, or practical formula-perfected books written today. She believes that A Quotidian Dilemma accomplishes that goal.