theres an axiom that i have quoted many times in the past. in fact there are many sayings that i repeat, but one in particular stands out this morning: hope for the best; prepare for the worst.

though it seems as if it should be common sense, i wish i could say i had taken the advice of this old adage. those of you who know me well enough know full well what i am talking about. i feel as though i have put forth every effort possible in the last year to hope for the best. it is a disease i feel greatly tied to my affection for the dramatic in the vien of great literary romances. in the past, i have sought to protect myself from allowing it to overtake me, but i have come to find that my protection is for naught.

like a fighting boxer, whose years and months of preparation supposedly brought him to be as finely tuned as possible, i feel battered and bruised, thoroughly unprepared. i do not know how to react to everything. i knew it was coming; it was a matter of time. i just had hoped for the best, without regard to what would happen in any other case. whats worse is that i truly believe that, had the circumstances been different, the outcome would have also differed.

c’est la vie.