I imagine by telling myself something often enough and with forceful enough thought-energy, I can make it so. By this reckoning, I am fit [without ever exercising; in fact I mock exercise] and healthy [without eating properly or drinking water unless there is tea or booze in it]; my house is reasonably clean [though I cringe at the clouds of cat hair swirling about me as I walk upstairs]; we will always have plenty of money [regardless of how often I splurge on manicures, cocktails, dinners out, and shoes].
I think my children are learning to do most things smarter than I do them.
I feel certain all of the Seniors who have passed through my classroom this year are going to ace the final board presentations they have continually put off organizing and I will weep with joy as I announce their names at graduation in less than 40 school days. Wait, I hate crying in front of people. I won't be gritting my teeth?
I like to believe in the best outcome but be secretly prepared for the worst - this makes me, what, a cautious optimist? Or a hopeful pessimist? Maybe just delusional.
I can live with that.