Disappointment

Nothing hurts like disappointment.  If I'm not careful it makes me into a pessimist.  I would rather think the worst and be pleasantly surprised than think the best and be disappointed.

But it happens. 

And the only thing I can do when it does rear its ugly crumby awful little head is deal with it.

Of course the first thing that comes to mind is meeting it head on and chopping off that ugly appendage, but that is just the child in me reacting.  I know I can't really do that.  I can't kick it in the shins, or punch it in the nose either. 

Creating new problems certainly won't help me in the long run, so I step back and try to make a rational response instead.  That often means coming to a compromise -- with myself first of all.  I have to reconcile all those lost dreams with the reality before me.

Later, when the booboo is kissed and covered up with a Band Aid, I'm glad I didn't do any of the awful things I thought of in the beginning and years later, when I look back, I see what a tiny glitch it really was.

Still, sometimes all that gets me from here to there is the kiss and the Band Aid.  And maybe a few hugs too.

Disappointment hurts, but it's not the end of the world as I know it.  I gotta remember that.