So I'm older now and have been kicked around by life a few (hundred) too many times to let myself get my hopes way up about much of anything. Sure, I can be optimistic and all. Little hope is easy. Big hope is what I'm just too tired for. I don't do a lot of dreaming, or wanting of things. Not like when I was young and would always be wanting one thing or another soooooo baaaaad. Now all I really want is to pay my bills and eat chinee noodles now and again. The little things matter more now and the big things just take so much energy and hurt like a motherfucker when they don't pan out.

Not that this is necessarily an age thing, at all. It's just me. I'm not so good at dreaming anymore. I think my last job embittered me a bit too much, quite frankly.

But anyway, I bring it up because suddenly? There's something I Really Really Want Bad. I get all starry-eyed and eager and ohpleaseohpleaseohpleasepleasepleeeeeease I'D DO ANYTHING PLEASE!! about it. Like a nine-year-old wanting a puppy. This is an alien feeling to me. Well maybe not alien - I remember it. But I'm rusty. It doesn't make me giddy, it just kind of makes me ... um... wanna throw up. It's all very fraught. And I've kept telling myself to not get all twisted up about it, but I mean it's no use. The human heart is not designed to live in a state of hopelessness. And as I've been allowing mine mere crumbs for so long, it's gotten its revenge by going all-out on this particular Big Hope. Give it an inch and it takes a mile. Or two or twenty thousand.

Anyway. Sorta have heart palpitations now. Because I just threw my hat in the ring for sure, as it were. Because that's apparently what I need in the midst of a fairly debilitating depression: major rejection.

See, if I accept the rejection in my heart ahead of time, it makes it so much easier when it actually happens. Of course, once I'm rejected, I lose the ability to pleasantly daydream about it all day.

Oh god I thinkI might actually puke now.