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Planet Earth
The Universe

Wish I May Wish I Might is a blog created by writer, creative director, and citizen of the world, Julie Gordon, to help make the world a safer place to be human.




Vesuvius, interrupted.

Julie Gordon

For the past few weeks, every time I've gotten in my car, this song has been playing:

I KNOW. I'm sorry. I hate it too. But here's the thing: There's a line in the song that says, "How am I going to be an optimist about this?" And that's the lyric that's always playing when I get in the car. Every. Time. It's really weird. So in an unexpectedly positive way, the universe has made this song my jam. Because I have needed to answer this question over and over again in the past few weeks. How am I going to be an optimist about this person treating me like crap? How am I going to be an optimist about this project not going as planned? How am I going to be an optimist about taking this huge risk?

Now, I realize that correlation is not causation, but it's really been spooky how often this dumb song plays right when I've needed to hear it most. It has happened with such frequency that I *almost* look forward to hearing it. It makes me laugh, too, which is extremely welcome in times like this. 

Today it played for me twice. TWICE. Once this morning after I was stared down by a seemingly insane homeless man after buying a cup of coffee. It got to my favorite lyric as I drove by a construction worker inexplicably wearing a "Fuck Cancer" t-shirt instead of construction clothes. And it continued playing even after I changed radio stations. I mean, seriously. That was so nuts that I actually started talking to my radio like it was a Magic 8 Ball. "Okay, radio, how am I going to be an optimist about this? What should I do?" And because truth is stranger than fiction, when I changed the channel right after saying that, this song started playing from the very beginning: 

That is the exact right answer to everything right now. How am I going to be an optimist about this? Hit me with your best shot.