Sometimes I can never figure out if I am an optimist or a pessimist.
For example, I am fully expecting to win the Powerball drawing this Saturday night. One hundred and sixty-five million dollars. I'd tell you my numbers but then I'd have to share with you and I'm not really a sharer. So on Sunday, I'll be hunting for a solid gold bathub that dispenses gravy, which has been a lifelong dream of mine. So if you know a source for one of those, do give me a jingle. Then after that, I am going to buy my old company that I used to work for so I can fire a few people. You know who you are. And there are three other miscellaneous people I am going to have killed.
So I guess that makes me an optimist.
But then! I start thinking, "oh, the taxes on a hundred and sixty-five million dollars! What a burden! And ugh, I'll have to change banks because my current bank only lets you withdraw four hundred dollars at a time which so far has not been a problem since I've never had four hundred dollars in the bank but if I had one hundred and sixty-five million in the bank, I might have some sort of immediate need for like a quarter million dollars (if I find that bathtub, for instance) and do you have any idea how hard it is to close a bank account these days? So then I think, "gah! I don't want to win!"
So then I think maybe pessimist.
I've looked at the rest of the family to see if there's some sort of genetic pattern and here's the evidence:
Sister- pessimist. "You're too fat and you're either going to break that ladder or fall off of it."
Father - optimist. "I can make you another ladder! I like a project! I'll put it on the list right now!"
Mother - realist. "Who do you think you're kidding? You aren't going to ever clean those gutters."