Expectations vs Reality

Warning: I have my deep-thinking, smart person cap on.
After an unnecessarily strenuous night last night and the rain this morning, mixed with both boredom and hunger without the want to eat, as well as possibly watching 500 Days of Summer one too many times, I got to thinking why do expectations rarely align with reality?

An Expectation is a prediction or guess of what we hope or think or expect the outcome to be in the future, which may or may not be realistic; whereas Reality is how things truly are.
We don’t know the reality of something until it has already happened or until we already know the answer; and once we know the answer, there is no longer expectation.

I find difficult to decipher between the two and am often left disappointed when reality does not match my expectations.
This is probably not a good trait of mine – but then again, neither is urinating in public.
I think secretly many people have high expectations whether they want to admit it or not.
Expectations are everywhere in everyday life – we are expected to pay bills, go to work, get an education, be polite, look presentable.
We have expectations of ourselves and unfortunately we have expectations of other people.
To an extent, we need expectations to get by, otherwise everyone would do or say or smell however they want; and whilst that may seem ideal, with the hundred billion people in the world living with no order, the world would soon run itself into the ground.

Reality, unlike expectation is something that we can’t change.
Reality is past, expectation is future.
For example:
Reality: I smelt yesterday
Expectation: I won’t smell tomorrow

Expectation: I won't get upset
Reality: I'm upset

Expectation: Karaoke will be fun
Reality: It was the best fucking night ever

I think whilst I come across as possibly the most dim-witted person in the world, I have a lot of thoughts.
I have high expectations of both myself as well as others, but because I have these high expectations I think quite often left disappointed on both counts.
I’m probably not-so-secretly/secretly a huge romantic.
I like to make others happy, which in turn makes me happy.
I like to feel important and like what I have to say is interesting – even if it isn’t (which is more often than not)
Past is past and you can’t change anything – but my mind always tends to dwell on things, whether I want it to or not.
It makes things that really don’t matter, matter hugely and majority of the time, I don’t even know why.

I think you can blame this rant on the rain, my tiredness, my current over-emotional status taking my back to pre-weekend blues.

It’s also taken me an hour of non-stop thinking, writing, deleting, re-writing to bring you this quality post.

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