Motley Is A Fool's Uniform

Once again.

And by this I don't mean that there is no hope. Rather, its opposite. I'm currently doing really quite insane things based purely upon hope. And needless to say, they aren't really working out. "If" is such a frail construct to hang a plan of action on, especially if the "if" really is a forlorn hope [1], with no reasonable expectation of success.

But what happens if the small possibility that the million in one chance might, against all non-Pratchettean odds, actually occur, and I have ignored it? So I have to take the chance, no matter how small it is. Especially in this case. But it really is ridiculous to do what I've been doing. But I can't help myself. I have to, despite the fact that I really hate having to do so. It's ridiculous, but still ... I have to take the chance, no matter how slim it might be.

Hope's like that.

In its own way it's far more insidious than despair.

It's probably a really good thing that I have some very understanding and most excellent friends. Although I do, at the moment, wish they would have been slightly less understanding, for then reason probably would have had a chance to raise its quite sensible head, and I wouldn't be feeling as bad [2] about the whole thing. Of course, I suspect that half of my current feelings over the whole situation is simply despair due to my hopes not being validated, and that I actually would feel quite differently if events had managed to pan out.

But I shall definitely have to do something nice to make it up to them regardless.

[1] the term forlorn hope was originally used for the the group of sappers who placed an explosive charge (a petard) on the gates of an enemy fortress. Needless to say, the chances of actually surviving this action is generally somewhere between slim and none.

[2] As the old saying goes: time wounds all heels.