The Impossible Dream

"To dream the impossible dream To fight the unbeatable foe To bear with unbearable sorrow To run where the brave dare not go To right the unrightable wrong To love pure and chaste from afar To try when your arms are too weary To reach the unreachable star This is my quest To follow that star No matter how hopeless No matter how far To fight for the right Without question or pause To be willing to march into Hell For a heavenly cause And I know if I'll only be true To this glorious quest That my heart will lie peaceful and calm When I'm laid to my rest And the world will be better for this That one man, scorned and covered with scars Still strove with his last ounce of courage To reach the unreachable star" I have been exceptionally moody lately.  Normal for me is to be somewhat moody with a slightly depressive tendency but with the strong capability of hiding this from all except those who know me too well.  For whatever reason lately I've just been moody.  For instance, yesterday I was grumpy and was taking sarcastic potshots at anyone with whom I interacted.  Today, I've been mostly fatalistic but with a streak of idealism hence I've been randomly bursting into the above song (only when I'm alone, mind you!)   That song ranks pretty high on my favorites list.  I think it has partly been on my mind because I managed to partially solidify why I'm so driven to do rescue stuff with the animals.  Although I cannot explain the wiring, I have always wanted to "make things better" ranging from the simple clean up of things to the complex save the world.  My compromise illustrates and would seem to support the idea, expressed by different people in slightly differing ways, that a cynic is a frustrated idealist.  I've realized that changing the world to make it better (even my small slice of it) is impossible.  I can, however, change the world entirely for some unwanted, unloved, and uncared for animals thus making their world better.  At least there is some sense of accomplishment in this rather than the perpetual frustration associated with changing the whole big world and making no progress.  Or, for that matter, of trying to make tiny improvements in the workplace only to fail miserably.  The animals at least appreciate my efforts and I experience a sense of satisfaction.  It's rewarding; unlike most everything else in life which leads to an unrelated comment.  Once again, I've had it hammered in my head how seldom actual hard work pays off.  You bust your butt and are lucky to get a mere thanks while someone else who is prettier, more charming, knows the right someone, or has the money gets promoted or chosen or whatever i.e. gets the reward. The effect this has on me as a somewhat boss is that I strive to be rigidly fair and not reward the undeserving but those who work hardest.  Not that this does any good since I'm not and never have been in a position to have the final say and no one listens to my input...and there's only two, maybe three, people who listen to what I say at all. At the moment, though, I'm dreaming the impossible dream and gearing up for battle with life. The depressive reality is that I'm probably fighting windmills...