I’ve been called a pessimist, but I’ve always considered myself a realist. I just realized this morning that I may actually be an optimist and that’s kind of disconcerting.
I was thinking about my post from Monday about unity. Why on earth do I believe that so many problems could be solved if more people and groups made an effort to work together rather than pushing separate agendas? Other people think money, research and protests will solve our problems. Why did I pick something so mushy?
When my husband was laid off a couple years ago, I was concerned, but I wasn’t overly stressed. I knew things would work out somehow. Why would I think that? Our state has one of the highest unemployment rates in the country. (He did find a job two months later.)
When I found out my son has Asperger’s Syndrome (after a day or so to process it), I jumped into figuring out how to reduce or remove his symptoms. It never occurred to me not to.
I’m always annoyed when I have to be around one of those “everything is horrible” people. Not that I don’t ever complain or get overwhelmed. Most of the time, though, I live in My Happy Place where I believe things aren’t as bad as they may seem. And it’s a bit strange to realize that.