Pessimism: Musings of a Natural Born Pessimist

I am a pessimist.

There, I wrote it and it was only a little painful. I have known for years that I tend that way, although as a youngster I didn’t have the word for it. Being a pessimist is many things; mainly it means always expecting problems and hardship. I recently came across a quote that amuses me and fits me perfectly: “The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised”. (George F. Will) Well. You got that right, George.

As a pessimist, I was sure it would rain on my risky early-June mountain wedding, and I didn’t really believe the diamond-encrusted wedding cake would arrive intact (okay, it just had a diamond-like price tag). Neither of these calamities happened. As a pessimist, I was positive Mr. Right had gotten lost on the road to eternal bliss with Melody. It took a long time and the purchase of technology (plus a learning curve to use said technology) – and now he is my cheerleader, my catalyst and my partner. Occasionally, he seems to forget he married a pessimist, but that memory comes roaring back every time I tell him that life isn’t fun, and why does the laundry keep piling up, and we’ll never, ever have enough money to do ANYTHING. He loves me. Good thing, too.

Would an optimist view these situations differently? Oh, probably – those optimists are so, well, optimistic. So cheerful. So sure that no matter what, the bills will get paid and life is just so darn much fun. Just look at those lovely clouds and smell that crisp air. If you ask me, it’s going to snow any minute, and then I’ll have to shovel, and no doubt my car will get stuck in the snow, and ice always forms and I will fall and break my neck, and why must we endure winter ANYWAY. Still, being a pessimist is working out.