Things don't always go my way--I've learnt this truth from countless experiences that dot the entire span of my memory. Yet the habitude of failure does little to soften the blow of disappointment. Perhaps my intentional effort to avoid opportunities for letdown leads to two of my worst habits: procrastination and ill-planning. In procrastinating or refusing to plan, I provide myself an excuse for those times things don't go just how I'd like. I think, "If only I hadn't waited until the last minute or if I had thought things through a little more... maybe things would have turned out better." While the result may be less than perfect, the endeavour to avoid disappointment still ends up a success. When destined to fail, there is absolution of responsibility for failure; all hard work becomes ultimately futile and amounts to nothing more than wasted effort laced with disappointment. I subconsciously choose not to chance this hazard by never being able to find out whether I was destined to fail. Unfortunately, this approach yields a conclusion that is inevitably subpar: Serendipitously enjoyable outcomes of events still amount to great pleasure but they are rarely tantamount to the satisfaction derived from knowing that I made these events enjoyable through meticulous planning. Forgoing the safety net of my excuses and facing this dilemma--the elation of success and antithetical disappointment of true failure--is always a gamble. Well, this time I took that gamble and it looks like I've ended up with the less pleasant result.