It's a constant shipwreck

I was sitting on the bus the other day, contemplating the state of things. Long ago, I realized that there's a shipwreck down here, every day. Nothing ever really works out as one would like. This is how things are, and this is what I expect at all times. When stuff doesn't work out, it's normal. And getting things to work out, generally requires high levels of patience and flexibility.

Then I considered the fact that my level of contentment is really high here. This kind of scared me.

Masochist? Likes a challenge? Stupid?

These thoughts were going through my mind as I was returning to my house on a four hour trip, sitting on a small plastic seat in the the aisle of a crowded bus. I had intended to travel to a place, partly by bus, and partly by boat, and remain there for three days. Didn't pan out. There were only boats on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Fridays. It was Wednesday. The bus part of the trip, because of delays due to construction, was 4 hours, one way. In a 24 hour period, I spent a third of that time on a bus, another third of that time sleeping, another third of that time trying to figure out what and how to do it (and finally punting).

All this without feeling frustration. When I was back home, after a day of snowboarding in Duluth, Josh asked me if I wanted some hot chocolate (we were a little cold, a lot tired, and at a point in which a cup of hot chocolate is pretty much THE PERFECT THING). Upon declining, he said, "you don't care if you live or die, do you?" Now, this is clearly an exaggeration, but kind of captures the state of things.

Now, imagine how I feel when things go really well. It's like tasting bacon for the first time. Bliss.