Getting The Mail Is Like Gambling, When You Think About It.

Seriously, the title speaks in all truth. It really is like gambling. You go outside and freeze your butt off in hopes of bringing something worth while back to the house with you. When you return, 9 times out of 10 you have an armload of junk mail & bills. The weird thing though, is that no matter how many times I remind myself of this fact, no matter how many times I freeze going outside only to come back with nothing of interest, I keep going. I don't know why... it's like this horrible curious impulse inside of me that drives me on, pushes me outside, telling me that maybe this time there will be something worth going out there for.

Why is there this strange sense of hope that still lingers in the back of my head...that pushes my feet out the door every day despite the protests of the rest of my body? haha, I duno...maybe I'm just weird. Some times I really don't understand these sudden impulses that drive us to do things.