Worry has been a constant companion.
I’m a worrier. One who frets. I have worried every day for decades now. I was a worrier as a child and I have honed that skill to a shiny perfection. My worrying skills have the soft patina of worn and well loved kitten leather.
My worries and anxieties are both more sophisticated and just as ridiculous as they were when I was a kid. For instance, I have an ongoing worry that we are one major car repair from throwing our entire financial existence into a swirly vortex of suck. I’m also kind of afraid to use public restrooms because I’m convinced I will find a human head in the toilet.
My subconscious has been particularly dickish lately. Sundays have been bad. They used to be bad because I had to go back to work on Monday. Now they’re bad because I have to go back to work on Monday but I’m anxious for a different reason.
I don’t hate going to my new job. I’m just still afraid I’m going to fail. I’m positive every Sunday that the next day will be the beginning of the end of my new job. I’m going to fuck it up somehow. I’m convinced I am hanging by a thread and I haven’t been seeing it realistically. That tomorrow will be the day they have me work on a project and I fail. Then I get fired. Then we lose our house. Joey drops out of school. We’re forced to live in a cramped apartment over top a liquor store and we all get shingles.
We can’t get shingles. My new insurance is expensive. I would have had to pay triple what I was paying for not as much coverage or drop down to the cheaper option. The cheaper one has a crushingly high deductible. I went with that plan. Here’s to hoping no one gets sick or requires surgery for the next…well…forever.
Randy and I are going to Nashville next weekend. I’m attending the Bloggers at Midlife conference and am so looking forward to it. I’m going to get to meet some people that I’ve been reading forever and we’re going to get away for a couple days. What’s not to love?
Well, I’m going to have to meet a bunch of people. My social anxiety is like those Olympic speed skaters just before they take off. My social anxiety is scooting back and forth on it’s sharp blades just waiting to take off. Plus, I’m taking my first vacation day from my new job. I’m sure they will experience a plethora of computer problems all related to shit I’ve worked on. Also, the car might catch on fire and we might finally get that robot invasion.
I tried to cure the anxiety today by ordering a new skillet and pictures of the grandkids on 16 x 20 canvas but so far that isn’t working.
Perhaps making cupcakes will help.
Or going back to bed.
I’m feeling sluggish in my bones and my eyes are glazing over when I see the dishes that aren’t washed and the bathrooms that haven’t been cleaned and the projects that remain in their infancy stage. I can feel the darkness of depression tickling around the edges of my head, looking for an entrance.
I should probably find out what I did to piss off my subconscious and make amends because the laughter sounds like a scream and I’ve got way too much to do. I don’t have time to trip down the anxiety hole. And fuck depression.