We had a manager several years back, affectionately known as "Brinkley," that was quoted as saying, "Hope is not a strategy." It has always stuck with me. If you think about it, it's true. You can't rely on hope alone to accomplish a goal. I suppose it is not a bad idea to have some hope to guide you through your journey, but you gotta have a plan, you know? You need to have a plan, you need to have measurable goals, you need to have the ability to make alterations to your plan if things are not going well. You must remain diligent and you must remain focused. You must be willing to kick someones ass and take hostages if it isn't going well. Nowhere in that scenario is "hope" called for.
I, personally, have never really relied on hope, unless we are relating it to things like, "I hope Santa brings me a show saddle for Christmas." It is noteworthy to mention that never happened. I would also relate it to situations like, "I hope I don't catch a cold." But, I usually did. And in cases like, "I hope I win the lottery!" You don't see me sitting in some luxury accommodations having someone else workout my thighs for me, do you? So, you see, "hope" has never really panned out for me.
Today, during Therapy Thursday, I was telling the Rug Doctor that I am starting to stress out because we are getting down to the wire on my Little Black Dress deadline, or, as my Dad used to say, "it's nut cuttin' time." I promised myself at the beginning of the year that I would make my goals a reality and that I would pledge to myself and all my readership that I would wear a LBD in December of 2014, no matter where I was in my journey. I cried to the Rug Doctor, "What was I thinking? It's like I didn't even think that through? It's like I had hope! What was wrong with me? It was such a careless thing to do!" It's true. I let that little mother trucking word in..."hope." Brinkley was right. Hope isn't a strategy. Hope isn't doing anything for me. What would be doing more for me is if the scum-sucking saboteurs would get the huge mother-fucking plastic orange pumpkin full of Halloween candy away from my desk. That would be one strategy that might help. Another thing would be if I could strike some sort of deal with my body to stop being old and broken and to start being functional. This seems to be the biggest hurdle. Actually, that's a lie. The herd of disfunctional ponies in my head are probably in the running for the number one problem. Unruly band of rogue ponies. It's like half of them are untrainable and the other half should be made into glue. Ass Kicker has pretty much put me out to pasture. "Yeah, you should just work on cardio and stretching." I used to be an athlete in the making, now I'm just one of those random people sweating on the elliptical. I'm trying not to be depressed about that.
Anyway, I digressed...a lot. So, the Rug Doctor says, "Well, hope might not be a strategy, but it is reasonable to think that hope plays a role in your journey...blah blah blah...and it's only September... you still have time." I stopped her. "LOOK, it isn't like this is Extreme Home Makeover and that Ty Pennington guy is going to come make me over in five days and then yell "move that bus!" and then I am going to cry because I am going to have a new body that I am going to end up putting a second mortgage on because I can't afford the power bill on and end up losing it and now my disabled kid is out on the street again. That isn't going to happen, this takes time!!! I'm down to TWO options, juicing diet or anorexia. Get on board with one or the other, because that is ALL THAT IS LEFT!!!" The good news is, this isn't the Rug Doctor's first rodeo. She's seen this hysteria before. She remains calm. She then tells a story about another patient that has parallel metaphors to my situation. Something about it takes two hours to get from point A to point B if everything goes perfect, and yeah there is a lot of traffic and this and that and the other, but the point is, she finally got to point B even though it took longer than two hours and all the stressing and worrying didn't change the fact that she did get to point B and it was okay and it worked out. I just looked at her and said, "What if the bridge goes out, then what?" She thinks she's winning this one today, she isn't. Not even hope can help her at this point.
So, this is where I'm at folks. I foolishly had hope, and threw out a foolish challenge at the beginning of the year. Now, I'm in a bind. It's looking a little less like Little Black Dress and a little more like Big Black Dress. As the Rug Doctor would say, it looks like I ran into some traffic along the way on my journey...and some construction...possibly an accident...a natural disaster...road block....a detour....ran out of gas...car was impounded...stuck in a foreign country...Obama isn't coming for me...so, here I sit. It's gonna take a little longer than I thought....or...had hoped.
This is why hope is not a strategy.
I, personally, have never really relied on hope, unless we are relating it to things like, "I hope Santa brings me a show saddle for Christmas." It is noteworthy to mention that never happened. I would also relate it to situations like, "I hope I don't catch a cold." But, I usually did. And in cases like, "I hope I win the lottery!" You don't see me sitting in some luxury accommodations having someone else workout my thighs for me, do you? So, you see, "hope" has never really panned out for me.
Today, during Therapy Thursday, I was telling the Rug Doctor that I am starting to stress out because we are getting down to the wire on my Little Black Dress deadline, or, as my Dad used to say, "it's nut cuttin' time." I promised myself at the beginning of the year that I would make my goals a reality and that I would pledge to myself and all my readership that I would wear a LBD in December of 2014, no matter where I was in my journey. I cried to the Rug Doctor, "What was I thinking? It's like I didn't even think that through? It's like I had hope! What was wrong with me? It was such a careless thing to do!" It's true. I let that little mother trucking word in..."hope." Brinkley was right. Hope isn't a strategy. Hope isn't doing anything for me. What would be doing more for me is if the scum-sucking saboteurs would get the huge mother-fucking plastic orange pumpkin full of Halloween candy away from my desk. That would be one strategy that might help. Another thing would be if I could strike some sort of deal with my body to stop being old and broken and to start being functional. This seems to be the biggest hurdle. Actually, that's a lie. The herd of disfunctional ponies in my head are probably in the running for the number one problem. Unruly band of rogue ponies. It's like half of them are untrainable and the other half should be made into glue. Ass Kicker has pretty much put me out to pasture. "Yeah, you should just work on cardio and stretching." I used to be an athlete in the making, now I'm just one of those random people sweating on the elliptical. I'm trying not to be depressed about that.
Anyway, I digressed...a lot. So, the Rug Doctor says, "Well, hope might not be a strategy, but it is reasonable to think that hope plays a role in your journey...blah blah blah...and it's only September... you still have time." I stopped her. "LOOK, it isn't like this is Extreme Home Makeover and that Ty Pennington guy is going to come make me over in five days and then yell "move that bus!" and then I am going to cry because I am going to have a new body that I am going to end up putting a second mortgage on because I can't afford the power bill on and end up losing it and now my disabled kid is out on the street again. That isn't going to happen, this takes time!!! I'm down to TWO options, juicing diet or anorexia. Get on board with one or the other, because that is ALL THAT IS LEFT!!!" The good news is, this isn't the Rug Doctor's first rodeo. She's seen this hysteria before. She remains calm. She then tells a story about another patient that has parallel metaphors to my situation. Something about it takes two hours to get from point A to point B if everything goes perfect, and yeah there is a lot of traffic and this and that and the other, but the point is, she finally got to point B even though it took longer than two hours and all the stressing and worrying didn't change the fact that she did get to point B and it was okay and it worked out. I just looked at her and said, "What if the bridge goes out, then what?" She thinks she's winning this one today, she isn't. Not even hope can help her at this point.
So, this is where I'm at folks. I foolishly had hope, and threw out a foolish challenge at the beginning of the year. Now, I'm in a bind. It's looking a little less like Little Black Dress and a little more like Big Black Dress. As the Rug Doctor would say, it looks like I ran into some traffic along the way on my journey...and some construction...possibly an accident...a natural disaster...road block....a detour....ran out of gas...car was impounded...stuck in a foreign country...Obama isn't coming for me...so, here I sit. It's gonna take a little longer than I thought....or...had hoped.
This is why hope is not a strategy.
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