Failure

Failure, of any sort, is tough to deal with.

Unfortunately for me, I failed at something that I had no business failing. But sometimes you gotta call a spade a spade, and I failed at something I thought I prepared fully for.

It's difficult to accept. It's embarrassing. It's depressing.

But in the end, in the grand scheme of things, it's nothing.

It was just a test. 130 questions. I didn't answer enough of them correctly. I have to wait 11 months to take it again. I suspect that once I get over these feelings of disappointment/embarrassement/depression, that I will get mad/pissed off and I will prepare in a manner such that I will outright destroy it the next time around. I think my goal will be to tear it a new asshole.

Gotta return the favor, ya know.

For right now, however, my confidence has taken a shot in the guts. Maybe I need a year to get it back. I was riding a high horse for a while, but the good Lord always knows when to get me back down to Earth where I belong. Some harmless, but much needed, humble pie. I mean I failed a test, but no one died, no one got hurt, no limbs were lost. I can still run, jump and walk without a limp. My mind is still vital. I have a wonderful wife. My family and friends are awesome. My training isn't interrupted.

Sometimes it's innocuous things like this that remind you to count your blessings and to say your prayers, not just for yourself but for others. It's also a reminder of just how much harder you have to work just to stay where you are. Take nothing for granted. Looking back, the main reason why I failed is simple: I slacked off. And what happens when I slack off? I fail. Bottom line.

So for all of the good things you give thanks for, there are also times, in retrospect, where you give thanks for the "bad" stuff.

Just not right now.