
When I was in high school, I was known to my closest friends as “Pessimistic Pam.” In our Winnie the Pooh fantasy, I was, inevitably, Eeyore. The nickname carried through into college, as well.
Lately, though, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about myself, my life, and the universe in general and I’ve realized something. I was never all that pessimistic. It wasn’t necessarily an act either, however.
In thinking tonight, I realized that while I always thought I was truly pessimistic, there was a part of me that, no matter how many times I’ve been crushed or slapped back down [ ... ]