Propheteering.

While at first blush it may seem like a good idea to predict what will happen in one's future, I am finding more and more that accuracy in such adumbration is god-damned near impossible. That said, I have been dreading the reception of an acceptance or denial letter from UC Berkeley that is to arrive in the next several weeks. These feelings are supposed to be over and done with by the time one is 19. I have the lucky exception to be experiencing this at the tender age of 28. So, the prognosticating part of my psyche is up to his old tricks and is raking my inner child across the proverbial coals; telling him that his proposed failure to gain acceptance to the University is not only inevitable but a further example of his inability to succeed at anything he tries. My psyche is a bastard. How could it possibly know what the outcome of this event will be? Psyche not psychic. This is the same part of my brain that said I would never own a house or quit smoking. It also predicated that John Kerry would somehow overcome his insatiable thirst for boring people into comas to get elected. Obviously I shouldn't listen, but the voices can get loud.