Yesterday, as I prepared to head out on a foggy/drizzly ride to work, I was listening to one of the local meteorologists (Stacey Donaldson) as she ran through the weather forecast. I was relieved to hear that the fog and drizzle would move out of the area, giving me a sunny ride home.
As I rode home, that afternoon, in a pouring rain (wearing a windbreaker instead of my rain jacket, and with my feet wrapped in plastic to make up for the lack of neoprene booties), I found myself wondering why I ever listen to the weather-guessers around here. Had I followed my instincts, I would have been properly dressed and warm, on the way home, rather than wet and shivery.
How many times in our lives do we let the "official" prognosticators steer us off of our chosen path, into the mouth of adversity, simply because they are telling us what we want to hear? I felt like it was going to rain all day, but I wished for sunshine. Having Stacey tell me it was going to be nice was all it took to get the wishful thinking to override the logic.
We all know that if it's too good to be true, it's probably not true. Yet, we all, at some point or another, make that cold, wet ride home.
The road to Hell may be lined with good intentions, but the speedbumps along the way are made of wishful thinking.