One of These Days

Recently, I qualified for my FIFTH trip on the radio. OH YEAH. But I never win. BOO. So why do I keep trying? I'm not really sure. Logically speaking, I won't win. But there is a chance.... A minuscule chance. That small opening is why I keep calling, time and time again.

I'm just so drawn the possibility of winning that I can't seem to stop. One of these days I have to win, right? One of these days some of that Irish fortune that should run in my blood will shine on me and I'll win, right? RIGHT?!? One of these days....

I think I'm addicted to hope. Hopelessly. This seemingly strange oddity is one I'll admit I'm a bit glad I have. If I'm going to be addicted to anything, hope seems the most viable option. Possibly, I'm also addicted to possibility. Like a bug drawn wide eyed to the light, hope and possibility beckon me. Usually, reality comes in and crushes my dream in an over dramatic show of machismo. After a brief wallow in self pity, I begin the cycle again. Possibility, hope, attempt, failure. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

But on occasion, I get to trump reality and actually achieve my dream, with "Eye of the Tiger" pumping in the background as I stand triumph with my hands on my hips, a heroic smile spread across my overly joyous face. These are the times I'm really addicted to. These are the times I hope for. These are the actualization of my possibility. Possibility, hope, attempt, achievement.

So I'll hopelessly keep calling the radio station, because possibly one of these days.....