Recently, someone told me I was a “glass half empty” kind of gal.
I couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d said I was three feet tall and smelled like chartreuse.
I’ve always thought of myself as a fairly positive person. Sure, I’m not exactly a I’ll-go-ahead-and-make-up-my-guest-bed-’cause-NPH-is-in-town-and-we’ll-doubtlessly-run-into-one-another-become-besties-and-have-an-impromptu-slumber-party-tonight-and-while-I’m-at-it-I-should-buy-a-crate-of-marshmallows-for-his-unicorn sort of person. In fact, I’m more of a have-a-hundred-bucks-and-a-large-knife-taped-to-the-underside-of-my-desk-in-case-the-world-explodes sort of person.
Is that the same mentality as glass half empty? I dunno. I guess it’s just semantics, but I think that’s called being a realist, being proactive. I wouldn’t say it’s pessimistic.
Actually, if you cross your eyes, I think that believing realism isn’t pessimistic is actually a pretty optimistic outlook on things.
Whatevs. It’s taken me a few weeks to come to terms with it, but I’m officially stating for the record here and now that I AM a glass half empty kinda gal. And I’m ok with it. Because if I’m prepared for a glass to be half empty, I won’t be disappointed when it arrives and I can focus on the important stuff – the fluid said glass contains.
I can celebrate the clarity of the water, savor the sanguine smell of the wine, enjoy the slivers of pulp in the orange juice, smile at the bubbles exploding on my tongue, pause to let a piece of crushed ice melt against the roof of my mouth. Whether it’s full or empty is not as important to me as what the glass contains.
That and whether or not I get free refills.