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On Getting Ahead of Myself

I am not, in general, an optimistic person. I assume the worst about most things; it's not something I enjoy, but it's something so seemingly hard-wired into my very being that I doubt it will ever improve to any great degree. Part of it is certainly my upbringing, I would imagine that a not insignificant part of it is genetic predisposition to worry and doomsaying, and of course there is personal experience. When you view the world through this sort of lens, the positives stand out as some sort of freak occurrence, while the negatives tend to blur together.

It's not that I am unhappy; I love and have a wonderful relationship with my parents, I have the most wonderful sister in the world, I have a friend so dear that I have come to think of her as a sister and a fantastic group of friends of all different stripes. I like my job. I have the weirdest and most wonderful cat ever to live. Most importantly, I am lucky enough to have a fiancée that I admire, adore and love more than I ever thought possible. I'm doing well, and I recognize how lucky I am. Despite this, I still expect everything to come tumbling down like a poorly constructed house of cards at any given moment. I've learned to live with it.

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