I think I was happy too soon. As it turns out, my night just got ambush-screwed. Apparently nobody in my family ever plans anything, so as it would turn out, I've been railroaded into babysitting my nephew for the night, while me and my brothers have a Starcraft session planned, and I also wanted to make a little more progress in Tomb Raider.
*BZZZZZZZT* Wrong again, as it turns out, plans should NEVER be made in/for your own benefit whatsoever. They'll always be terminated once they're ready to be executed. Gotta love hubris. I'm a master of it.
Okay, you want to know something that truly sucks about this now?
As it turns out, I no longer had to do this, and I was not informed about it for the past 3+ hours. Meaning I could've been playing the entire time. Thanks alot everyone for telling me!!!
Reminder: NEVER have any happy thoughts. It'll only sabotoge any future plans of pleasantness.
Hell, just egging my bad luck on, any side-plans I have to jump in the ocean, regardless that spring is near, the water is still as cold as ice; but to add to the suck factor, (enter self-pity "just because it's me" related statement), I hold a high probablility beyond the impossible that for some naturally freakish reason, red tide will hit precisely when the water is even remotely swimmable.
Considering how over the top this is, I'm placing bets on the likely unlikeliness of this happening. Enough impossible crap that only a sitcom provides has happened enough times to me within the week (including anytime my partner for the night leaves his post, I get ambushed by a clusterfuck of people; but upon their return, it's so slow, it's boring. 3 times today within 4 hours it happened.), what the hell? Is my life now The Twilight Zone? Let's come up with some truly ridiculous incident that has such a high level of improbability, and place bets on it like it always happens. I just want to see how ridiculous my bad luck can get. I'm like a human black cat made out of a shattered disco ball crafted under a ladder, but unusually enough, my bad luck benefits everyone, but my good luck ends the world; or so it seems. I've witnessed it happen enough times.
I think some greater force has some sick sense of humor surrounding me, and I'm trying to figure out the punchline. Sometimes I doubt I'm even alive and I'm not being told so, but instead let's screw around with this lost soul instead just for the hell of it. If that ever becomes a case, I swear I can make the devil cry and that'll only be the beginning. Hell, only less than a thousandth of a percent of what I'd be capable and maybe even do.
:looks up:
I find it sad that I'm happiest when I force the worst of my negativity out in the open to screw myself over. It's like I make bad things happen to me, it double-negatives and becomes good. I think I'm a real live George Costanza. How else can the crap that happens to me (regardless of the odds provided with them) ever happen? It's so unrealistic, yet it really happens. I have realistic dreams that make no sense, but I can have a dream about a waterpark conversion of my town as it's primary form of transportation and such, and it makes perfect sense, engineering-wise and somehow logically.
I think I'm most sane when I'm insane. Funny enough, nobody can tell the difference between them.