Pity Party

I hate Pity Parties.  Those horrid events when you invite only yourself to bemoan your sorry state and whatever twist-of-fate is bothering you. I am the kind of gal who kicks herself in the butt, picks herself up, and carries on. I also vow to work harder, much harder, and redouble my efforts even if there is really nothing much I can do about whatever is depressing me at the moment and "working harder" will probably not accomplish a thing. I also update my spreadsheets and to-do lists, as if organization and direction and purpose will mitigate my sorry circumstances. Then I go out for ice cream.

I have a basic belief that anyone with even marginal skills and intelligence can make a good life in America.  I believe you can regroup and start over if you have to.  I believe there is someone for everyone and even if you can't find them right away you can still be happy being alone.  I believe the world offers countless opportunities and one or two are bound to come your way eventually. Prolonged Pity Parties have no place in my belief system.

I allowed myself a brief Pity Party yesterday in the wake of some disappointing news.  But I am relegating that less than stellar day to the trash heap and am awaiting better news and good fortune in the coming days. 

;-)