Morning

I haven't experienced many mornings for the past two months. Those filled with sunshine, birds singing, and a purpose. My mornings were mostly dark, mostly dancing between the lines of late and early, and too often accompanied by a brief, melodious prayer from a distance away. I wake up in the afternoon, even though my digital alarm clock was always set to ring hours before that. It didn't matter. I still struggle to understand why would people choose to waste their time doing something they know to be so redundant, so meaningless, and yet - they still do it. Does the element of hope come to play here?

In a matter of hours, I will experience morning once again - the bright type. I will set my alarm, and I will be awaken by it, because I want to be awaken by it. I want to be awaken by it because I cannot wait to have a glimpse of what my entire year will be like. I want to receive the news. There can only be two possibilities: it's either good news or bad news. So simple, yet the grand distance between the differing implications of both. For the past week, I had been advised to draft out my plans for both premises. I dreaded doing it, but in the end managed to come out with at least something, and here's how it looks like:

Premise A: I pass.

Hi Ms X,
I refer to your e-mail below and

I have just received my results and am delighted to inform you that I am able to join your company any time from now. When should I go for the medical examination? Is there anything else that I need to provide/do?
Thank you for your understanding once again and hope to hear from you soon.

Premise B: I fail.

Hi Ms X,
I have just received my results and regret to inform you that I am only able to join the company after the second week of March. May I know what 

I don't even know 'what'. It ends there.

The news is expected to make its almighty presence at 8AM. Until then, until I open that fateful e-mail, my results are both of the above. Right now, right this moment, its both good news and bad news. Just like the cat in the box. But once I open it... that privilege vanishes. It will only be one of it, and it might not be the one I had hoped for. What, then?