I have a good imagination - perhaps too good. In that way anticipation has always been my enemy, since things I have worked for and striven after have essentially yielded a resounding 'meh' upon arrival. I don't mean that I don't enjoy both the journey and the arrival - I do. But life goes on. This too shall pass, and duly passes. So what.
The source of today's angst is merely that over time, I've pretty much reached the end of the list (or at least the end of the possible items, since things like be able to swim through the air as though it were water or be rich enough to do what I want with the money with no worries or live on the moon are highly unlikely to happen). Is it better to keep something untried so there is the dream of fulfillment, or to continue to try things with the likelihood that the fulfillment will be less than I hope it will? I choose the latter, but it is sometime hard to overcome the inertia of the past.
I have been told that the secret to a happy life is a lack of expectations. I have even found it to be true, to a certain extent. I still think it sucks, though. Just another facet or two of my mental illness.
I expect to have a good, probably even a great time in the class. Will it give me a reason to live? Probably not. So there you go.