Cautious optimism…

I used to have a t-shirt that said, “I feel much better now that I’ve lost all hope.”

Pretty nihilistic, eh? But sometimes, it’s a mood. Possibly for 2020, it’s even a roadmap for clinging to sanity. For example, I’ve written off Long Beach Comic Expo and WonderCon for 2021, so no pressure prepping for those. This is also around the time we would get our acceptance or wait list notice for San Diego. We haven’t heard a peep from that team by mail or email since October, and I’m definitely not inclined to put down a non-refundable hotel deposit while a vaccine is still in question. As the prophet Max Rockatansky said, “…hope is a mistake.”

Of course he goes on to state that “if you can’t fix what’s broken, you’ll go insane.”

Which begs the question: am I broken? Have I gone insane? Max certainly had, but his situation was far more stressful than mine. Also trying to fix things implies the necessity of hope, does it not?

Perhaps it’s just recognizing that a lot of things are out of my hands and it’s best to concentrate on the immediate. Our cat has pulled through her emergency and is now recuperating nicely at home. As I type, she is sitting watchfully next to Dawn hoping for a bite of pastrami. She will not get it as we are under strict parental instructions from the vet to keep her diet controlled, but fortunately she is quite happy with the kidney-fortifying stuff that is now her breakfast, lunch and dinner. This is a time where we even welcomed the big hairball she horked up recently because it means she’s been grooming herself again. The vet cautions that there is no “cure” for kidney disease and kitty will never be the same as we knew her, but so far little miss Balrog has been uninterested in such declarations and is climbing up her cat tree as if nothing ever happened.

Meanwhile my dad also came home from his visit to the emergency room, and although he might not be clambering up obstacles five times his height the doctors have managed to track down some nasty bacteria in his system and ordered up the necessary drugs to stamp them out.

So, you know, peaks and valleys, valleys and peaks. It may be that it’s impossible for the human psyche to lose all hope. Are we more hopeful when good things happen? Or more hopeful in the depths of despair? Would losing all hope be tantamount to death?

Perhaps. So perhaps at this time, under these circumstances, I permit myself a bit of optimism. Cautiously.