When it all amounts to nothing in the end

I saw quote a while ago that said, "Sometimes not getting what you want can be a wonderful stroke of luck." It's been attributed to the Dalai Lama, but after a little research I've found that you can attribute just about any clever, wise sounding quote to the Dalai Lama and most people will probably believe you. 

Anyway, the reason I'm writing (in the middle of a nearly-internet-free vacation, no less) is because I've spent the majority of the past week or so not getting what I want. Or more accurately, not getting what I expect. To be clear, what I expected is what I wanted... and I got none of it.

And here I am, waiting to see how it might be a wonderful stroke of luck, while warily eying the word "sometimes" in hopes that this is one of those times.

You see, I have this habit of meeting new people, making plans, and/or making commitments that I get really, really excited about... only to have all my high expectations crushed under the immense weight/ extreme suckiness of reality. Possible-future-good-friend? Turns out he/she doesn't even like you. Nice vacation to Florida? Turns out you can either sit and do nothing or spend so much money that Christmas shopping looks like your weekly trip to the grocery store. Trying to impress others with your wealth of knowledge and board-game skills? Congratulations, everyone thinks you're an over-competitive ass hat. Think you rocked that job interview? Have fun waiting for them to call you back. Just met Prince Charming? How sweet! by the way, he's actually an uncultured douchebag who tries too hard to be the center of attention.

And so you pout for a little bit about how everything's not fair, and then life goes on, right?

Well, it's supposed to. But after all my building up of expectations, and after all life's knocking down of said expectations, I still find myself waiting for that wonderful stroke of luck. And the better I get at trying to have realistic expectations, the harder it is when that one hopeful thought slips past and snowballs until it inevitably gets torn apart. And in the time leading up to this week, I've been letting those snowballs build themselves up... and we all know what happens to snowballs when you bring them to Florida. (I'll give you a hint: they don't get tan.)

Maybe I should just convince myself that everything from this point on is going to suck, and hope that I'll spend the rest of my days pleasantly surprised.

Sigh.