*sigh*
A long time ago, I was sitting across from Bob, comparing notes on our "career goals" that we had compiled in these Excel spreadsheets. This was clearly something that people with satisfying jobs wouldn't be doing on a weekend. We were sitting at his kitchen table when he asked me if our standards were too high. His query was whether we were setting ourselves up for disappointment. I've always felt that lowering standards solely to allow others to succeed is a poor way to live. While I've never changed my standards, Bob was correct about disappointment. That whole thing about shooting for the moon and ending up among the stars doesn't usually work out that way*.
It's hard to control how we're wired. I love the fact that I can get such intense pleasure from simple things like opening a new CD, feeling the wind through my hair, or being greeted by the world's best puppy. I hate the fact that I expect so much from everyone and everything around me.
Expecting 20 cars to actually race seemed pretty damn reasonable to me.
Oh well. At least the pit babes were cute:
Brushfire Fairytales - Jack Johnson
* - Strange how this analogy is clearly backwards if you know any astronomy.
